Potato Gnocchi
by ratsister
Summary: America drunkenly stumbles into England's room of magical artifacts and causes a lot of international issues; particularly for Germany & Italy. Human and Country names used, Rated M to be on the safe side for now. Mpreg. GerIta, just a bit of AmeCan.
1. Chapter 1: Surprise

_This is a little challenge my sister __**AbbyGreenEyes**__ set me, as I've always been...a bit...hesitant about Mpregs. And because the lovely __**Haruka Hourou **__said she'd read it, I dedicate this story to you two dolls!_

_This will be updated every month. Expect 10 chapters, for obvious reasons. XD_

_Rated M cause I honestly have no idea what I'm gonna do with this...I mean, hormones sure do play crazy with pregnancy, but its not like this is gonna be full of smut either, so I don't know, it'll be an adventure we take together!_

_GerIta is the focus, though in this chapter, as it is the first, you do see a lot more of the CAUSE of what happened, so a lot of America messing things up! But in the subsequent chapters it will be all GerIta, with occasional appearances by other characters, their reactions, etc._

_Well, without further ado, _

_Potato Gnocchi._

* * *

><p><strong>Midnight in Great Britain.<strong>

A bright white light,

A loud obnoxious laugh,

Both blasted through the manor in the space of a heartbeat, lighting up the English countryside.

_Where was Alfred? What had he just done?_ England dropped the martini he'd been shaking and made his way through the other guests at the party.

"It's nothing, nothing, don't mind it, enjoy yourselves." He mumbled as he moved through the crowd of nobility and foreign dignitaries. Of course he'd personally invited America as a show of friendship. Why, why had he done this, Arthur found himself wondering now that it was clear America was incapable of gentlemanly comportment?

Finally rushing through the open door to the private rooms he had kept nicely secret all these years, the Brit gasped and crossed swiftly to the giggling American.

"What the bloody hell did you just do, you stupid yank?" Emerald eyes wide, England pushed his laughing former colony out of the way, distancing him from the ancient iron stand, upon which sat an even more ancient leather bound tome.

"Blimey…" Though both he and his long time ally and friend had been deep into their cups not long ago, what Arthur now saw sobered him up instantly.

Alfred's laugh continued, echoing in the dark room. "Whatever man, this stuff isn't real!"

"It most certainly is real, you ruddy wanker." The United Kingdom shook his head as he gathered up the candles, sachets of herbs, and spools of black twine that had spilled from the chest Alfred had carelessly stumbled over.

Once his effects were all placed back into the chest and the room put back in order, green eyes looked down from beneath prominent brows as the British nation surveyed his reckless and wild friend. Alfred was like a little brother, his former charge, and Arthur had certainly tried to teach him manners and not to dabble in what he didn't understand.

He'd _tried._

Sighing heavily, Arthur turned back to the book. "Tell me you didn't actually speak the words on this page. Not_ this_ page, right, Alfred? The shorter blonde held his book up and pointed to the dangerous spell in question.

This wasn't done anymore. Hadn't been for ages and ages, not since the times of frontiers, not since the ages of personal unions between nations. These times had long since past.

"So?" Alfred stood up from where he'd fallen and swayed tipsily, still grinning. "Seriously old man, what's the big deal? It sounded like nonsense anyway." Reaching into his pocket for a greasy fry, The taller blonde went on around his full mouth. "Its not like anything happened."

As Arthur looked aghast at the much younger nation, America went on. "I mean say that stuff, and do something with that globe…" Alfred suddenly turned toward the large sphere, "and dude, that thing is seriously out of date! I'm still the _New World_!" He turned back to the horrified Englishman, draping an arm around the shorter man's shoulders. "What, d'ya just keep it around for the memories?"

Alfred laughed again as Arthur attempted to regain control of his racing heart. The first thing he had to do was assess just how much damage America had done. The green eyed man sighed again as a thought ran through his mind. _Wasn't that just all he did now a days?_

"Right then Alfred," Arthur pointed to the book as he placed it back on the stand. "walk me through exactly what you did."

The American shrugged, clearly still of the opinion that he hadn't done anything with England's odd book of spells, but mutter some gibberish and spin an old useless globe.

"Ok, uh, I first came in and thought it'd be a gas if I checked out what all this hocus pocus was about." Not even noticing Arthur's emerald eyes glaring in frustration, Alfred went on. "So I basically just flipped a page at random and said that ridiculous sounding stuff," Blue eyes glistened with mirthful tears, "honestly, Iggy, its nonsense! I worry about you sometimes old man." America chuckled again and then gesturing to the globe, he waved greasy fingers.

So then I spun the globe like it said, randomly put both hands on it, and that's when all that weird light happened and you came in here all mad at me for nothing!"

"We'll see about that." Alright, Arthur thought, if Alfred didn't know what he had been doing it was possible nothing had happened, if he'd managed to select stretches of ocean or the same country or one sovereign state and the ocean, nothing would happen, and no one need know.

The Island nation first turned on a lamp to better inspect the blue and green sphere. He then turned the large globe round as he looked for greasy smudges….

His heart nearly stopped.

Of all the...

"Alfred, do you have any idea what you've done? What I'll have to answer for if they suspect…" Arthur pulled the taller man toward him by the collar of his shirt and pointed, glaring eyes full of emerald fire. He pointed to the sphere and the greasy finger prints on the once kingdoms the impulsive American had selected by random.

Sure the names were spelled in the floral way Arthur had once spoke; yes, some of the boundary lines had changed over time, but not so much that the spell wouldn't have worked.

"Um…so…? Whats the deal?" America turned puzzled toward his irate host.

Releasing the clueless American, Arthur shook his head. "You really are thick aren't you Alfred?"

The taller blonde straightened, sobering a bit at the perceived jab at his eating habits, another french fry stopping on its way to his mouth. "Am not! I've been eating a lot less latel-"

Arthur cut off his words with a roll of his eyes. "Daft." The Englishman spoke the word beneath his breath, more to himself than his confused American friend. To Alfred, Arthur looked seriously into wide blue eyes. "I'll be blunt, though to be crude with such a sensitive subject..." The green eyed man sighed, "however, I see I have no other choice."

"Man," America began, his smile reappearing broadly, "What the hell are ya talkin' about?"

The Brit was aware that he was beginning to frustrate the other, less patient nation as he stood silently. The truth was that Arthur simply wasn't sure how to tell Alfred about this particular spell. He'd said he would be blunt, but this just simply wasn't something talked about.

As America began to lose interest and glanced around, England realized if he didn't just tell him, Alfred would start messing with something else in the room. Arthur's stomach plummeted at the possibilities. _God save them all if he came across the scrying mirror or crystal ball!_

"Right. Sit down Alfred." Of course he didn't move. "Fine, stand, Look, Alfred, I'll be very clear with you." Arthur's brows lowered over his eyes seriously as he began to pace. "What you've just cast is a spell not used anymore in this world. The world as you know it, well, its free of frontiers that have yet to be explored, there are less monarchies, and of those that exist, few...very few have the power they once had." The Englishman wondered how he would explain the situation they were now a part of.

"You see there was a time when unions between nations were common...great empires were born of these marriages." He sighed again at the continued empty expression turned toward him. "I suppose the last of these was Hungary and Austria."

It seemed England had finally gotten America's notoriously short attention span focused. "Yeah, I remember that one." Alfred scoffed. Ok, so...what does your dumb spell thingy have to do with that? I mean, the Austro-Hungarian empire, ya know, collapsed."

Arthur stopped in his pacing and turned toward the other man, his arms across his chest, the Brit went on. " Right, thats neither here nor there. Point is, Alfred, had they ...uh, that is, had Roderich and Elizaveta chosen to... well you know... um," Arthur flushed pink. _Why did America have to be so bloody thick?_ He thought to himself, knowing the answer was one that would forever elude his bespectacled friend.

"If they had wanted to have a...well a baby, but of course, its not just a baby you understand, but a jointly held bit of land, sort of like a protectorate...um, or a colony," He waved his hands immediately. "Don't look at me like that! Thats not where you came from!"

"Anyway, its simply a more intimate way of expanding an empire I suppose, a more permanent sort of thing. Islands have been made this way, and bits of previously unexplored or unclaimed land have been named and given...life."

Arthur sighed, long suffering "Ugh.." and leaning on the stand where the book still sat, open to the dangerous page, he looked across at America, watching the full realization of what he'd just done come together in the younger nation's mind.

As England watched the cogs turning, Alfred suddenly laughed hard, and doubling over, held his side. "You're telling me, you're tellin' me I just... I just... I mean,...Italy and.." Alfred's words dissolved into fits of giggles as he clearly understood what he'd just done. The American looked up, tears in his eyes from laughter.

England's arms crossed themselves tightly against his chest, emerald eyes wide and accusatory. "My God man! Have some compassion!"

Alfred's laughter suddenly stopped.

"Right, thank you, I mean really, think of-" Arthur cut off his words as Alfred had moved, rushing past him to take the book in hand again. "What are you doing?"

Blue eyes gazed over the words on the page lovingly as America reached out with the other hand to turn the globe westward away from Europe. "Something I have always wanted to do."

He spoke quickly, now much more comfortable with the words, having spoken them once before.

"A New world unfurled frontiere, rootebeer global sphere, across the border tape recorder, expande the land adrenal gland!"

As the last syllable fell from his voice, America slammed his palms flat on the land mass labeled as the New World. Dropping the book, one palm slammed into the northern reaches as the other landed firmly to the south, somewhere in what Alfred recognised as his great plains.

"What have you done?" Arthur spluttered as he moved through the blinding light to tackle the impulsive, rebellious nation. "Bloody wanker! My Commonwealth! You...You...Canada! I won't have- you can't- bleeding do..."

Apparently it was simply too much, and still stammering incoherently, England pulled back and took a swing at America; the younger nation dodged the attack easily. As Arthur came around for a second attempt, still stuttering his rage, he suddenly dropped his fist, took hold of Alfred's shoulders, and shaking the American roughly he opened his mouth to yell, to curse him into nothing, but instead of his intentions, it seemed Arthur could simply take no more.

With a mix of curse words all rolling into one nonsensical mash of syllables, furious emerald eyes rolled back, and with one finger still raised, pointing straight in America's face, England passed out cold.

As Alfred attempted to revive Arthur while texting Mathew the good news with one hand, across the channel, in mainland Europe, it was an hour later.

* * *

><p><strong>1:00am. Berlin.<strong>

The slight brunette mumbled in his sleep and scooted closer to the taller blonde, whose bed he shared.

"Veh~ Germany..." Italy poked the other man in the side.

Accustomed to his partner's frequent nightmares, and hoping he would not have to wake fully, The sleeping nation turned and stretched out his arm without opening an eye.

The Mediterranean nation scooted closer, burrowing into the muscular German's side.

"I feel funny Germany~"

Slowly blue eyes opened reluctantly in the dark. "Hm?" Ludwig turned completely onto his side to look over the petite man beside him. Feliciano appeared as he normally did; laying beneath the blanket, half naked as usual, and looking up with partially open caramel eyes, clouded with a sleepy haze.

"Vhat is it, Feli? Do you feel sick?" The blonde rubbed the sleep from his own eyes and then reached a hand to feel for his lover's temperature.

All seemed fine.

Germany peered down closely at the petite brunette. You do not seem to have a fever."

The Italian shrugged, and wrapping his arms around his stomach, scooted back in under the German's arm. "Veh~ I just feel...wierd."

"Indigestion?" The tall blonde sighed, and kissed the smaller brunette on the head. Ruffling mahogany locks lightly, Ludwig lay his head back against the pillow and closing his eyes again he chided his Italian love, "You eat too much pasta. Go to sleep, you vill feel better in the morning."

* * *

><p><strong>12:30am Great Britain<strong>

As the European nations once again fell asleep in eachother's arms, England was just coming around.

"Al-Alfred...what the.." Arthur sat up suddenly, remembering. "Oh bloody hell."

America's grinning face swam into view. "Good mornin' old man!" Alfred reached down to pull the stunned Brit up from the floor. "So I'm just waiting on Matt's response, 'Had to let him in on the totally kickass news! Just think how cute he'll look!" Alfred went on, his mind obviously racing well ahead, "I wonder if he'll want hamburgers? I should catch the next flight and surprise him with a couple dozen! I mean any child of mine has got to have a healthy dose of grade A beef!"

Still furious over the sheer scope of chaos America had loosed on international relations in just one hour, Arthur made no attempt to hide his satisfaction at what he had to tell Alfred now.

Smirking, England looked America in the eyes, "You know, Alfred, magic is no exact science...you understand, it could be you who decides you'd like a case of maple syrup one morning.

Capitalizing on the suddenly falling face, as America had clearly not considered this a possibility, the Brit went on. "And don't you think for a minute I'm taking responsibility for this! You," The green eyed man pointed a finger into the American's chest, "you are going to explain this to Germany and Italy."

Covering his eyes with one hand, Arthur shook his head. "God help you Alfred, just pray its Feliciano..."

"Um...huh." The American was suddenly silent. "Um, do I have to tell them?" Blue eyes squinted conspiratorially. "I mean, you know...they'll find out on their own...right?"

England drew himself up to his full height, still shorter than the other nation who had grown beyond the former empires expectations, he none the less made a striking figure. "Alfred F. Jones. I bloody well taught you better than that." Green eyes flashed with disappointment.

And it was disappointment that cut America to the quick, "Ugh.." He stomped his feet childishly, "Fine! I guess I'll fly over to Europe before I go to Canada..."

"Good Man." The shorter blonde huffed, still incensed at America's audacity. "Really Alfred, you have to start thinking of others. Do you have any idea what our bosses are going to say about this?" England shook his head as he steered America toward the door. "What you've single-handedly done, do you have any idea?"

Before Alfred had a chance to answer, Arthur had walked him through the party, through a side door, and called for a car. "Now you're getting to the airport before I want to hit you again."

* * *

><p><strong>5am. Berlin.<strong>

As the sun rose over Europe, a few hours before it would reach North America, Alfred stood, shifting his feet guiltily at Germany's doorstep.

He pushed the buzzer again, and balanced the bag of groceries he'd bought. Food made the best apology, he told himself as he readjusted his hold on the sack of boxed pasta, various kinds of bratwurst, tomatoes, parmesan and sauerkraut.

He pushed the buzzer again.

Alfred put his ear to the door. Steady footsteps could be heard on the other side making their way toward him.

Pulling back just as the polished oak door opened to reveal a tall blonde dressed in a black tanktop and hastily pulled on slacks, America beamed. "Mornin' Ludwig!"

Glaring down at the American, as Alfred invited himself in, the German rubbed sleep from his eyes. "Vhat are you doing here, America?" Ludwig ran a hand through his hair in a partially successful attempt at smoothing it back. "Und do you realize vhat time it is?

Alfred laughed as he emptied the grocery bag onto Ludwig's kitchen counter. "Sorry about that dude, I just wanted to get here as soon as I could!"

"Ja, und vhy vas that, exactly?" Puzzled, Germany picked up one bratwurst and peered quizzically at America. "You know...I am not in need of food...?"

Not sure how to broach the topic, Alfred shifted uneasily; he really wanted to hurry up and tell them so he could get to Canada...maybe stop by a Timmy's to sweeten the news...

"Um...," The younger nation began, "Italy wasn't home, so I figured he was here?"

Taking the instant blush that spread across the taller man's face for affirmation, America grinned. "So, either of you two feelin' a little...odd since last night?"

One pair of blue eyes widened as the other became slits of azure suspicion; Ludwig stepped menacingly toward Alfred. "Vhat did you do to Italy?"

Even as he backed up against the larger man's counter, America laughed relieved; an action which only served to further confuse the German.

If it had been Ludwig who'd felt a bit funny, Alfred had already had a plan in place. This backup plan consisted of running away, very far away. As it was, it was bad enough, and edging along the wall, America purposefully maneuvering his back to the door.

"So, anyway...yeah, um..." He'd never been very good at delivering bad news or admitting he'd done anything wrong. Still backing up as the other nation continued to advance, America drew a notepad from his pocket where he'd written what he planned to say on the flight over.

Laughing nervously and feeling the cool wood of the door against his back now, Alfred began to recite the words he'd written. "Germany, how's it going?" He began, regaining some of his usual confidence, "Hahaha, I guess we already got that part, huh?" The American looked to the German as Ludwig had stopped and crossed his arms, eyes still slits of pale blue, waiting for an explanation.

"So, uh," Alfred returned to his notes, "Congrats! You're gonna-"

Light footsteps and a yawn from the bedroom drew both men's attention, Alfred stopped mid sentence as Ludwig turned toward the sound.

"Veh~ Ludwig, I still feel funny." One arm still around his stomach, the smaller man rubbed the sleep from caramel eyes with the other hand as he walked through the doorway to stand beside the broad shouldered blonde. "Oh Boungiorno America!" The Italian greeted the unexpected guest, "what brings you here so early?"

"Ja," The German glared at the American again with suspicion, one large hand held protectively at his Italian love's back. "He vas just about to say, veren't you, America?"

His fingers taking hold of the knob behind him, Alfred coughed and rushed through the words he'd written, " Congrats! You're gonna be dads! How cool is that?" He hurried on, opening the door and backing out, as the other nations reacted in shocked fury and sleepy confusion respectively. "I'm sure your kid'll be super organized and talented!"

"che cosa?" Caramel brown eyes widened further than Alfred had ever seen them.

The American grinned radiantly, "Yeah buddy, you're all knocked up! And it's Germany's so..." Alfred gave a thumbs up as he backed out the door onto the front stoop.

"Gott Verdammt America, vhat are you talking about?" Irate and with barely concealed panic, the taller blonde grasped at the other's jacket just as Alfred ducked and took off out the door, "Don't blame me! Its was England's stupid magic!"

Considering what his boss's reaction would be were he to knock America out, Ludwig decided against chasing Alfred down; instead he closed the door and slowly turned around to face the situation in which he now found himself.

The petite brunette looked up at his taller blonde love, a mix of emotions chasing eachother across the Italian's face. "G-Germany, veh~I think I'm going to be sick."

"Ja," Ludwig ran a hand across his brow, "Me too."

"No, I think I'm going to throw up!" The mahogany haired nation clutched at his abdomen and with a worried look, Italy rushed past the distraught German at the door on his way to the bathroom.

Completely immobile, Germany stood at the door, trying to calm his quickened heart rate as innumerable and impossible ideas flew through his mind. After some time of standing frozen at the door, the tall blonde began to worry.

"Feliciano? Are you alright?" Ludwig walked to stand just outside the bathroom, and as he had just begun to open the door, his Italian love exited, a wide smile on his face.

"I didn't throw up afterall!" The slight man embraced his muscular love, and laying a kiss to the German's chest, he continued, "I feel better - lets have breakfast!"

…_..._

_End of Chapter 1~ TBC of course._

_I hope this silly little thing was enjoyable. _

_The AmeCan hinting was at the request of my darling sis, who writes delightful AmeCan and if there is enough interest, she will write what happens between those two when Alfred shows up with Timmy's and hamburgers. XD _

_**For those of you who read my other stories**__, I know I normally update 'In the Shadows of the Black Forest' between chapters of 'Its Just Business' but my lil' mafia fic is calling to me and due to a sprained ankle I'm immobile and really gonna take advantage of being stuck on the sofa to write chapter 17 this weekend. I will return to 'In the Shadows of the Black Forest' with the GerIta adaptation of Sleeping Beauty as soon as I finish chapter 17 in IJB. (I know I left you guys on a cliffhanger. I need to make up for that! LOL)_

_Bitte, per favore, review? I hunger so for your thoughts, and reviews make my day!_


	2. Chapter 2: Month 1

_Hello, and welcome to the first full month! Thank you for all the lovely reviews my dear sweet readers! I hope this chapter is to your liking! Thank you to my sis AbbyGreenEyes for her asssistance with the part of the issue facing the North America. Can/Ame queen that she is. _

_I meant to update this yesterday, but after studying, I just couldn't stay awake to finish it. Midterms. omg, midterms._

_Well, here we go with the first month! Enjoy!  
><em>

**One ****Month ****Later.**** Berlin.**

The doctor's office was cold, sterile, and clean.

Ludwig looked to Feliciano, and tried to keep the worry from his expression. No matter how many books the German had immediately bought, and read cover to cover taking notes meticulously, nothing had been quite what they needed...there simply were no books on their particular situation.

Once it appeared that what America had said was true, as Italy had begun to show the signs, particularly fatigue and mood swings, the chancellor and prime minister had demanded the two see a physician. This was why, one month later, after a great many negotiations between their less than thrilled bosses, a trusted doctor had been chosen.

Now, all that was left was for the two nations to hear the official results and to receive some sort of practical medical advice while the two world leaders engaged in talks with the rest of the fairly uneasy Eurozone.

As a consequence of America's blundering of England's ancient magic, there had been meetings nearly constantly. Austria and Switzerland, in particular were not pleased, both declaring that neither would cede any of their lands to Italy or Germany.

For most of these meetings, Italy had been absent, either busy in Rome as he was at first, or staying in Berlin, as he had more recently, complaining of being too tired to go.

Ludwig groaned inwardly at the thought of the latest meeting. Both he and Italy had left the meeting held earlier that day after addressing the situation with the rest of the world. A meeting in which both America and Canada had been conspicuously absent. The only communicae having come from the United State's president, vaguely stating that his nation would be unable to attend due to "pressing domestic issues".

The blonde shuddered inwardly at the memory of the meeting. Feliciano had fluctuated between smiling radiantly and clasping Germany's hand to suddenly becoming teary eyed or irritable, or, Ludwig recalled with horror, all three at once.

At the moment, all was peaceful; Italy sat beside his taller love, and fiddled with the ends of his sleeves. The royal blue sweater was beginning to become unraveled at the ends, and the brunette pulled on one thread nervously.

"Feli. Stop that. It vill come undone." Germany took Italy's hand in his and looked into the other man's wide caramel eyes.

"Veh~ Germany, I'm scared." Feliciano had expressed his many concerns, time and again, each time expecting an answer from the blonde beside him, and each time, Ludwig's frantically researched answers had only led to more questions.

The Italian sighed, meeting his German love's piercing gaze for a moment, before leaning into the other nation's broad shoulder as he continued, "I'm tired Ludwig, I want to go home. I'm hungry, and I want some Tiramisu…or some cheesecake…or" The brunette's eyes lit up with possibility, "TIRAMISU CHEESECAKE!" Feliciano gripped Ludwig's sleeve tightly, "Could you get it for me, por favore, amore mio?"

Germany was just beginning to console his petite Italian love, and without fully understanding why, promise to find the non-existent dessert, when finally the doctor entered the room.

The middle aged German woman was not alone, however. To both nation's surprise, she was followed by a very recognizable figure.

"China!" Feliciano perked up, and smiling, waved to the Asian nation.

Sitting down at her desk, followed by the deceptively youthful man beside her, the German physician looked at the two men. Though she had been briefed by both their heads of state, and already met with China, clearly she was having a hard time keeping her composure when finally faced with the personification of her nation.

Feliciano looked to Ludwig, whose clear blue eyes were focused intently at the file in the doctor's slightly shaking hands.

For a moment nothing changed, China looked to the doctor, waiting patiently for her to begin, the doctor stared at the two countries before her…as Italy stared at Germany, and Germany had eyes only for the file that would hopefully tell him what to do.

Finally, at long last the doctor seemed to get herself under control and clearing her throat she clearly decided she would treat her two unique patients as though they were simply any other couple. Any other normal, human couple.

But of course there was the physical complication as she had never treated a male pregnancy before, and had no idea where to start. Like her fatherland himself, she had stayed up all hours of the night researching all manner of strange pregnancies, making notes on what she could apply to this situation, as well as consulting maps and history books looking for when this had happened in the past.

It was only, the unexpected assistance by the oldest known civilization, that had thankfully shed some light onto the predicament.

When finally the doctor spoke, both men turned all their attention to her. As she went on, describing the light exercise regime, healthy eating habits, and avoidance of alcohol, Feliciano began to feel panicked. He didn't want to exercise…and wasn't liking the way Ludwig was nodding and soaking up all the information about things he could no longer do…why couldn't they have gone to an Italian doctor?

Then came the talk about what to expect, and as the physician went on, the German's hand tightened on the Italians, as Ludwig moved slightly closer to Feliciano as the smaller man began to hyperventilate.

Fatigue, mood swings, cravings…

_These things he was already experiencing!_

Now, she was saying he would have to deal with more nausea, swelling, frequently having to urinate, more frequent and intense mood swings, and of course weight gain. Damn that Brit and his magic! Italy cursed silently, and swore darkly that he'd find an old strega woman to teach both England and his former colony a lesson on his very next trip to Sicily.

_They'd learn he wasn't as ditzy and harmless as they all thought!_

When the doctor had finished listing off the symptoms to be expected, she tried a smile and attempted to think of the two men facing her as simply an ordinary couple.

"It is clear the two of you love eachother very much. I know this is strange, but I and my staff vill be here to assist you at each step of the vay." The woman handed the file to her nation, and as Germany flipped through the pages of what to expect in the coming nine months, she leaned toward the brunette. "Do you have any questions…um, Herr Vargas?" She simply could not bring herself to call the slim, panicked brunette 'Italy'.

"Veh…" The slender Italian looked up toward his blue eyed lover who had turned quizzically toward him, down to his lap, and back to the doctor. He did have a question, a very pressing question, and he sighed as he steeled himself to ask it, afraid of the answer.

Grandpa Rome would not be afraid. Italy reminded himself as he attempted to channel his ancestral strength.

"Si. I do have a question…" His voice wavered and he fought to keep it under control, suddenly feeling an odd compulsion not to appear weak. "Exactly how am…how is this…how will it come out?"

The doctor looked to the Chinese man beside her. This was precisely what she had wondered herself.

Yao Wang smiled and moved forward around the desk. "Don't worry-aru." He went on, leaning onto the desk behind him, the ancient nation unrolled a long cracked and yellowed scroll. "It's all about magic!" You'll feel all the symptoms, as it appears that your land will be the one most changed. I don't know how yet, but we'll find out as time goes by."

China continued, looking to both Germany and Italy's worried expressions as the human doctor behind him listened intently. "Your body will react as though you carry the baby inside you, but this is just a representation of the land growing, becoming more fertile. The cravings and mood swings you feel will be the fluctuating weaving of your cultures together.

"Italy, I will not lie to you-aru," Yoa brushed his long ponytail over one shoulder and leaned forward to show the characters written on the parchment to the confused Italian, who simply looked back up, unable to read them.

"I won't lie, at the end, it says you must go through trials for this..birth…so to speak. There will be some physical, geographical change, and then the child will manifest." China looked back over the parchment as he rolled it back up and tied it with a red string. "It says it will be very painful, so you should make sure to follow the rules on exercise and proper eating habits-aru. There are also many holistic practices you can do to gain strength and deal with the pain when it comes."

"But, I don't like pain!" Feliciano began to sob and ran from the room.

As Italy ran from the building and toward his love's car, he was unaware of Germany thanking the doctor and China, and then taking his leave, his pockets full of the pamphlets and lists the doctor had given him in the file, Ludwig followed the terrified Italian's footsteps.

The glass door of the doctor's office just closing behind him, the blonde turned toward the parking lot just in time to see his petite brunette sway, out of breath beside his mercedes.

"Italy!" Germany yelled, breaking into a full run. The taller nation reached his love just in time, and caught the exhausted Italian as he passed out.

* * *

><p>Feliciano awoke as his German love was stopped at a red light. Caramel eyes opening slightly, he looked over Ludwig's expression. Brow furrowed, his grip tight on the wheel, the broad shouldered blonde's jaw was clenched, a vein just beginning to stand out against his temple.<p>

Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, Italy sat up in the passenger seat. "Ludwig, what's wrong?"

Apparently Germany's thoughts were far from the car, and it took a moment for Feliciano's words to filter into his mind. The petite nation inched closer and closer each time he repeated his question until on the third time Italy was beginning to sound frantic, and at last, resting his hand on the larger man's thigh, he got the attention he sought.

"Vas?" Germany turned absentmindedly toward his Italian love, brow still furrowed deeply.

"Germany..what are you thinking about?" Italy didn't want to think about the prospect of any pain he might face or that he was going to get more nauseous, and have to limit the glasses of wine he drank to only red, and only once a week…or that his moods were going to continue to be as…fluid…as they had been.

As for the blonde at the wheel, Ludwig had been on edge more often lately, and though he tried to keep it together he had to admit, if only to himself, that it was due in large part to Feliciano's wild shifts in moods. Recalling that last week the smaller nation had broken into tears, convinced that Ludwig would leave him as soon as he got fat, and instead of being able to console his Mediterranean man, the German had soon been faced with a tiny, angry Italian accusing him of lying and threatening to cut him, before caramel eyes had widened with tears again, and Feliciano had latched onto him, apologizing profusely.

All in the span of fifteen minutes.

Therefore, it was with some trepidation that the German answered his beloved, but moody Italian. "Ah..nothing, Feli."

Ludwig slowly became aware of the other man's face very close to his own, Feliciano whined into his ear, "No, your face was…all…angry and twitchy. Veee….You were thinking of something. Tell me, tell me, tell me!"

Pressing his foot to the gas as the light blessedly turned green, Ludwig decided it would be best to admit that he'd simply been thinking about America and how he had thoroughly messed up not only their lives, but thrown Europe into chaos. He still wasn't sure how he would convince Austria and Switzerland that he and Italy weren't out for the land that lay between their borders.

However, instead of the agreement on America's carelessness he'd expected, Ludwig was faced with an offended gasp accompanied by Feliciano's hand flying from his thigh as the Italian crossed his arms and leaned back into the seat.

Feeling the waves of emotion flowing through him, washing over any rational thought trying to be heard, Feliciano replied in a rush of angry Italian. "Vedo! Tu non vuoi questo! Tu non vuoi questo bambino! Tu non mi vuoi più!"

Knowing full well what his emotions did to his nation, as the prime minister had reminded him over and over, Feliciano suddenly didn't care. He felt the lump forming in his throat, as his eyes welled up with tears, he looked away out the window and continued despairingly, "E il nostro bambino sarà nato nel peccato! Non siamo nemmeno sposati!"

Almost afraid to ask for clarification, Germany hesitated. He simply wasn't used to this new angry Italy...it had been quite a long time since the two had been at odds.

The larger man spoke clearly and carefully. "Feli…I only understood half of that."

Ludwig pulled into his driveway as Feliciano turned angry, tear filled eyes toward him again. "You're mad at America for ruining your life! You don't think about me! You don't want this baby!" Feliciano sat up in his seat, unfastening the belt, he choked on furious tears. "You-don't-want..._me_ anymore!"

Blue eyes flew open wide, and Ludwig began fast, "Nein, Nein! Feli, that's not what-" But his words were cut off by the now sobbing brunette who threw his hands into the air and cried out, "And our baby will be born in sin! We're not even married! I've loved you for…ages..and, and, and…you never asked me!"

"Vhat?" The muscular blonde took hold of the smaller man, ignoring his petite love's continued sobbs, and angry struggles against him. Blushing brightly, the rosy tint spreading across his face, Germany enveloped Italy in his arms, and brought their lips together.

Feliciano's lips were salty with his tears, but soft and welcoming as ever. Ludwig brushed a hand through the Italian's mahogany hair as he deepened the kiss.

In response to the unexpected tenderness, so sure he was that his tall blonde didn't love him anymore, Feliciano relaxed in his German man's strong arms and returned Ludwig's kiss with passion.

When after many minutes, they broke for air, Feliciano had twisted his fingers in Ludwig's now disheveled locks, and gazed into bright blue eyes lovingly. What had he ever been mad about? Of course Ludwig loved him.

"Feli, if that is vhat you are vorried about…" The stoic nation looked seriously into caramel eyes still glistening with forgotten tears. "You..um, I mean, it's that..vell…I don't know vhat our bosses vould say…or the rest of Europe..but…I..ah.."

Germany cleared his throat and commanded his heart to cease its frantic racing. Italy blinked and brought one hand out of his love's golden hair to brush the tears from his eyes.

Clearing his throat, Ludwig went on. "I-Italy, I…vould you…like to…not as countries, but as ourselves…"

_Mien__ Gott, __why__ couldn__'__t __he __just __spit __it __out?_ Ludwig mentally demanded his voice do as his thoughts were commanding, and ask the question Feliciano was waiting for.

It was those eyes. Striking him to the core when fully open, wide and caramel gold, flecked with the remnants of tears; tears that still glistened on long, dark, lashes.

It was his love's golden brown gaze that undid him.

Germany closed his eyes. Cleared his throat again, and now beet red from neck to ears to hairline, he ran his words together, aware that his voice had raised more than he intended, but unable to do anything about it.

Nervously, he had to check himself from bellowing the words as he asked, "Vill you marry me, Feli?"

"Si, Si, of course!" The Italian wrapped his arms around the German's neck and peppered the blushing man's face with kisses.

Their hearts beat in unison, as Feliciano's raced in his excitement and Ludwig's slowed now that he had managed the question, a sense of calm settling upon him.

* * *

><p>And now,<p>

**~~~The**** Story**** in ****North ****America~~~**** Codenamed:**** Alfred****'****s ****Domestic ****Issues.**

**Ottawa.**** The ****morning**** after ****England's ****Party.**

America arrived outside Canada's apartment carrying a bouquet of roses studded with a few vibrant maple leaves. Over the years his various attempts to convince Canada to, as Russia would put it, _become __one __with __him_, had failed. He figured this would be the next best thing. If England's magic was half as good as the Brit liked to boast then America could count on having a little jointly governed territory to take care of soon. Exactly how they would go about governing that territory, what form that territory would take, how it would appear, and how they would govern it, as well as about 1,000 other questions remained unanswered, however, America was confident in his ability to handle anything that came up along what he was convinced would be a beautiful journey.

He wasn't entirely certain how Canada was going to handle the news, however. Mathew was always complaining about Alfred's supposed "unilateral decision making". America snorted. He couldn't help it if he knew best! His feelings for Canada weren't unrequited but he had to admit his northern brother had always been a bit wary of his...

well, America wasn't quite sure how to put it... he would've called it enthusiastic love but he knew Canada would've referred to it as a "penchant for expansionism" as he often did while adding a drop of maple to his tea and scoffing slightly.

America smiled at the thought, that was all nonsense, of course!

Certain Mattie would warm up to the whole thing, Alfred smoothed his hair, and adjusted Texas as he rang the doorbell.

Canada opened the door for his American sweetheart, and let him in accepting the flowers with an unsuspecting smile. "What are you doing here?" The Canadian asked while taking the flowers to the kitchen. "I thought you had a thing in London."

Never one to waste time, America launched right into his explanation, practically bouncing on the balls of his feet as he did so.

"I had to hurry back. I have brilliant news, Mattie, brilliant news! You know how the old man is into all that freaky hocus pocus and what not?"

Canada hummed a halfhearted response, keeping up easily with America's breathless excited ramble . "Mmmhmm."

"Well I got bored at that stuffy party and thought I'd see if any of bushy brow's magic tricks were any good. It was a total accident at first of course,"

That part caught Canada's attention. Years of experience had taught him that Alfred's "accidents" were worrying things. "Oh? Is that so?"

"Yeah." America continued excitedly. "So, ya see, apparently back in ye olden days of unexplored territory, sometimes the nations needed a little help in the colonization department, right?"

Canada was really not liking where this seemed to be going. He raised an eyebrow. "Al, what did you do?"

"I may have...joined parts of Germany and Italy...or maybe created a new landmass...I'm not entirely sure."

"Alfred," Canada turned away from arranging the flowers to face him completely. "Is this for another one of your reality shows?"

"No, dude!" Alfred gestured wildly, his grin radiant as the sun. "We're going to be fathers!"

Canada, to his credit, kept his calm. "What are you babbling about, eh?" Blue violet eyes peered closely into those of lighter blue, "America? Al, are you drunk?"

America shook his head "We're having a little mini-nation, don't you see? A baby!"

Well, he wasn't sure if that was the right word. "A thing! a thing baby! Well, I don't really know what it is going to be, other than awesome!"

"What do you mean _we_," Canada hissed. "You just said you accidentally put this spell on Germany and Italy."

"I did." Alfred smiled and rubbed the back of his head. "Then, once England explained what I'd done, I did it intentionally for us!"

_'Calm__ down, __Matthew, __calm __down.' _Canada thought to himself as a vein immediately began to throb in his temple. _'This__ is __all __ridiculous. __Nothing __is __going __to __happen. __England __is __obviously__ pranking America__, __they __both __had __a __bit __much __to __drink __and __Arthur __thought __he__'__d __teach __Al __a __lesson __for __messing__ with __his __things__…__yes, __that __has __to __be __it'_

The argument escalated from there, alternating between America trying to convince Canada that they would make the perfect happy family and what he'd done was for the best and Canada flip flopping between freaking out and scolding America, denying that the spell he spoke of could even work in their modern world where every corner of the map was covered.

Finally Canada, losing his patience completely, asked America very politely to leave.

**Roughly ****One ****Month ****Later, ****the night before ****Germany**** and ****Italy ****meet ****with**** the ****doctor ****and ****China.**

He wasn't worried at all. He was convinced Alfred was just following another of his crazy schemes. That was until he started to hear the rumors. Often being invisible had certain advantages. People spoke freely around him in meetings, almost as if he wasn't there.

Whether it was Romano complaining to Spain about some potato eating bastardo, strange cravings he had to hear about, and a sullied blood line, or whether it was France who could be seen elbowing Germany playfully in the ribs causing the highly stressed nation to pop a vein in his forehead.

And then there was the fact that North Italy was...increasingly absent.

Canada began to worry, and worry, and worry.

He stopped answering America's calls. He ignored the other nation completely. He didn't care if that was upsetting his boyfriend; if that asshole had gotten him pregnant with some archaic nation building witchcraft then so help him God, he would beat him to death with a hockey stick.

Meanwhile, America was starting to have a panic attack of his own. It had started off with a pretty innocent desire to have breakfast at all hours of the day.

Pancakes to be exact.

This wasn't unusual. The 24 hour breakfast menu was as all American as baseball, apple pie, and hamburgers. It was what happened to him one day as he was tearing open the syrup packets to pour on his pancakes that tipped him off something was wrong.

Alfred spilled a little of the syrup on his fingers and raised it to his mouth to taste, only, he couldn't eat it. Something was terribly wrong. The syrup didn't taste right...it didn't smell right...

He checked the package. It was the usual stuff. Maple flavoring, high fructose corn syrup, glucose, etc.

_He __couldn't __eat __it._

America tried to brush it off. Surely he was just feeling a little ill. Perhaps he didn't want something sweet after all.

Then came the sudden craving for peameal bacon, and when he found himself putting gravy on his French Fries and having a strange longing to watch a lot more Hockey choosing the NHL center ice over the NFL network, he knew his worst fears had been confirmed.

To add to his panic, Canada was on one of his passive aggressive streaks and refusing to answer his phone calls.

Well, if Canada wouldn't answer his calls America had other options.

It was late one evening when Mathew was just sitting down with a cup of tea to watch the evening news that his door was suddenly kicked in.

"Take responsibility for your actions, you villain!" The other blond looked disheveled and lacking sleep but just as crazy and strong as ever as he stepped past the splintered door now laying on the floor of the Canadian's living room.

"Me?" Canada demanded, eyebrow twitching as he looked at the shattered remains of his door. If America had knocked, he would've answered. "What did I do?"

America crossed the room, standing right before the startled Canadian and breathed down his neck. "Goddammit Canada," his voice hoarse, America glared. "I can't enjoy Mrs. Buttersworths …I can't take the preservatives, the…the...corn syrup..I..I need the real thing."

It took less than a split second for Canada to put two and two together. Romano's voice floated ghostly through his head._'He __just __keeps __eating __potatoes!'_

"No." Canada whispered, violet eyes going wide. "_No_."

* * *

><p>Thank you for reading! I hope it continued to be enjoyable! Ch 2 is scheduled for Nov. 18. See you all then my lovelies!<p>

Bitte~ Por Favore~ Please review, it does make my day brighter to read your thoughts!


	3. Chapter 3: Month 2

_Thank you all for being so patient as this is nearly a month overdue! For your extreme patience, you'll be getting two chapters this month. The next will be on Christmas. And, wow - I had no idea so many would want to see more CanAme! Its not as much as the GerIta, but I think you'll be happy with it :) _

_To those readers who follow me on tumblr, I'm sorry! I promised this out last night and completely fell asleep with a single paragraph to go! I'm at work this second *Shh!* LOL and uploading from here. _

_To those of you who also read Its Just Business, it will be updated by next week sometime. Finals and work have kept me hopping, but the semester is finally over! :)_

_So, without further ado, Chapter 3, Month 2 (a wee bit late)_

**November 18 Berlin**

A month had past since the first visit to the doctor.

As they had been during that first month, both Italy and Germany had found themselves nearly constantly busy, juggling meetings with their bosses and diplomatically handling worries between the other nations.

But not today; today Feliciano lay listlessly on the sofa in his German lover's home. He'd spent more and more time in Berlin as it was decided he ought to be nearer the doctor their bosses had chosen. The Italian's brow furrowed in frustration, a sight more often seen on his blonde sweetheart's expression than on his.

It wasn't that he didn't like staying at Ludwig's place; in fact he loved to stay there, so much so that in the not so distant past, the prime minister had frequently chided him for being away so often.

What he could do without were the weekly visits to the physician. The German physician was getting along very well with her nation, Italy thought miserably. Ludwig had been only too happy to comply with her directions and see to his exercise schedule, a proper diet, and, well, Feliciano thought as he stretched on the sofa, at least the third wasn't so bad; plenty of rest.

The lithe brunette stretched, bringing his arms comfortably to the side of the sofa as he turned. One arm dangling off the edge, brushed against the stack of books Ludwig had been reading constantly. Books on what to expect each year, and proper parenting styles. A pen lay on top where his German love had been making notes, and Feliciano noticed with a small sigh, nearly every other page had a tab stuck to the top.

Just a few nights ago, the muscular blonde had been making notes, looking disgruntled as he wrote furiously. Feliciano recalled the look of near surrender he'd seen on the German's face as Ludwig's pen had scratched out the answers in a parenting quiz he'd been attempting to finish while Feliciano had been making dinner..

The sight of his broad shouldered love raking a hand through his hair and looking despairingly at the page was as clear in his mind as the words Ludwig had said, as he dropped "Scream-Free Parenting: The Revolutionary Approach to Raising Your Kids by Keeping Your Cool" onto the stack at his feet.

"Feli...I am authoritarian und you...are indulgent. Ve vill be terrible parents." Blue eyes downcast, the fatalistic man had sighed dejectedly.

A little smile flitted across the Italian's face as he lay back again against the sofa. He'd known what to do of course to cheer his amore. He'd been getting better and better at German food, and with the little touches born of Italian expertise, he'd smiled broadly and distracted Ludwig from his troubles with some home-made potato soup.

And...promised to read over the pages Ludwig thought would help.

Of course, he hadn't counted on his diligent man's thorough note-taking. Ludwig had read each book from cover to cover, and each page Feliciano was to read was denoted by a little yellow tab.

So many little yellow tabs.

He was supposed to be reading those tabbed pages, but...well, he just didn't feel like it at the moment. Ludwig would surely tell him exactly what to do, just as he always did, besides, Feliciano thought, his brow crossing in frustration again, what time did he have to read when every other minute he was either hungry or nauseous? Tired or wide awake?

His symptoms had gotten worse with the month that had passed and Feliciano knew they'd only get worse from here. This knowledge certainly didn't help the wild mood swings, as each time he thought about what was to come, tears welled up in his caramel eyes, and a lump found its way into his throat. He didn't want to be in pain as China had said he would be, he didn't want to get fat, no matter if Germany said he'd still be attractive. Feliciano sat up, and looked toward the kitchen... but he was awfully hungry...

"Veh~" sighing, he stood from the sofa and walked lightly across the tiles.

Well Ludwig _had_ said the little bit of weight he'd put on was "liebenswert"...and there was no way he could ignore the driving hunger now compelling him to find some delicacy in Ludwig's refrigerator. Stomach growling in demand, Feliciano sighed again, and stretched. Knowing he had never been good at ignoring hunger, and therefore it was pointless to argue with his stomach, he opened the door and began to look over the food within.

A container of left over linguine? "Hmm.. no" The brunette mused as he passed up pasta for probably the first time in his life.

"Veh~" He sighed as nothing looked that appetizing.

The thought floated through his mind, maybe he could make something from scratch instead...

"Si, pizza!" Italy smiled as his stomach murmmered in agreement.

Quickly he began to pull ingredients together and got fast to work, humming to himself as tomatoes and herbs turned to sauce, and flour, salt, yeast and water became dough.

Happily working at the dough, Feliciano looked to the clock. Germany and his boss had had a meeting with Austria and Switzerland's. There was still some concern among their bordering neighbors, as no one knew where a little German-Italian territory would show up. Ludwig ought to be home soon, Feliciano smiled as he looked away from the time, he had said he was bringing him something as a surprise.

Italy continued humming to himself as he shaped the dough, pounding it into the perfect circular shape with more precision and focus than usual. Somehow Feliciano wasn't worried about Vash or Roderich, he couldn't explain why, but was simply sure it wouldn't be a problem. Besides, he had more important things to think about...like what Ludwig might be bringing him, and what to put on his pizza.

He knew he'd been a tiny bit moody...and his tall blonde had been so very stressed lately...he'd be sure to make it up to him.

Opening the door to the refrigerator once more, Italy was dismayed to see not a hint of any respectable pizza topping, remembering that he'd used the last of the mozzarella the night before. A slight frown crossed the baby faced Italian's expression before caramel eyes alighted on the soft goat cheese, Altenburger Ziegenkäse.

Without a thought Feliciano began to improvise.

No pepperoni? no problem, he had knockwurst.

Ah, but he ought to have some sort of vegetable...

But what? Olives..peppers...no, not quite what he wanted..

Setting the wurst and cheese on the counter beside his perfect pizza dough, Feliciano brushed mahogany locks from his face and looked to the refrigerator again. What he wanted, well, he couldn't quite place it...

He looked to the wurst sitting on the counter. It seemed that what he wanted would go naturally with the sausage...something he had surely seen Ludwig eat..

poking around in the fridge some more, Feliciano was determined to find the mystery food he could almost, sort of, recall...

He looked. and looked, long after he normally would've given up, he looked for the elusive vegetable...

Finally!

There is was. In a jar in the back. He knew right away it was what he'd been looking for all along!

Sauerkraut. He'd never wanted to try it before, but he knew from the improved mood of his stomach, it was exactly what he'd been looking for.

* * *

><p>As Feliciano happily arranged slices of wurst, soft slivers of goat cheese, and dollops of sauerkraut on his pizza, Ludwig was tapping the top of the glass case in a jeweler's shop, and trying to ignore his brother.<p>

The pale haired man beside him laughed and emotionally wrapped an arm around the blonde's shoulders. "Mein kleinen Bruder, getting married at last!" Gilbert's crimson eyes flashed with mirth as he turned to nudging his younger brother in the side with a wink. "Finally going to make an honest man out of schön little Feli!"

Blood rushing to his face, Ludwig paid no mind to his brother's comments as he nodded to the jeweler that the simple gold band was what he wanted.

"You think he vill like it?" Ludwig turned back toward Gilbert, hoping for a serious answer from the unpredictable Prussian.

Gilbert choked down his laughter and looked flatly at his brother, his expression echoed by the bird atop his shoulder. "West, you und I have been in this shop for hours. HOURS, WEST. You have looked at each ring at least tvice, und finally," blood red eyes rolled in jest as the corner of his lips began to turn up in a grin, "Finally, you settle on the first you looked at. At this point, he had better love it." Gilbert shrugged adding, "Of course, I still think you should have chosen the one with the größten diamond!" The older German looked to the younger with a dismissive flip of his hand, "but of course you vant simplicity..."

As the blush stole across his face to tinge his ears in red as bright as his brother's eyes, Ludwig began to defend his choice, why plain gold bands were timeless and elegant in their simplicity. However, this defense stopped in his throat at his brother's next words.

"_I _vould have gotten him the biggest diamond. Und had ze ring engraved, because _I'm_ awesome like that."

By the time the jeweler returned with the set of wedding bands, only one brother waited at the counter. The eldest stood outside, rubbing his bruising arm and complaining to the chick now settled on his head.

At the shop proprietor's slightly uncomfortable expression, Ludwig cleared his throat, and looked over his shoulder at his brother now pacing outside and then back to the jeweler.

He knew what he was doing would get back to Gil as soon as he gave Feliciano his ring, and then he'd never stop gloating. But that didn't matter, Ludwig thought as he pointed to the smallest ring, and asked the man across the counter, "How long vill it take to have this one engraved?"

* * *

><p>A short time later, Ludwig walked beside his brother as they left the shop, his mind lost in thought as he considered the rings in his pocket, what Feliciano's reaction might be, and the question still in his mind about what they would do, were something to occur across his neighbor's borders. There could certainly be international problems that he would rather avoid...As though there wouldn't be issues when their bosses and the other nations got wind of their marriage as it was...<p>

The worried nation's fingers toyed with the box in his pocket as he reached for the keys to his car.

Suddenly the ringing of his phone broke through Ludwig's thoughts and he stopped to answer it.

As the familiar Italian voice flowed through the phone Gilbert leaned against his brother's mercedes and made kissey faces obnoxiously as the tiny bird on his head chirped in an equally jovial manner.

Turning from his brother, Ludwig focused instead on the words his petite love spoke in the melodic accent few knew he loved so much, no matter how often he told the other man to be quiet.

"Ludwig~" Feliciano whined through the phone as the sound of the oven opening could be heard in the background. "Ludwig why don't we have any honey? Veh~ I'm making pizza and I really, really need honey for it. Por favore, bring some home?" He switched into his sweetheart's language before Ludwig had a chance to respond, "bitte, bitte, bitte?"

"Ja, of course, Feli." Ludwig began as he walked forward still not responding to his older brother's jeers as Prussia whispered in mock passion "Oh Italia, Ich liebe dich, ich liebe dich"

Sitting behind the wheel, Germany continued as he fastened the seat belt and started the engine. "I'm on my vay now und vill stop and buy some...but...honey on pizza? I have never heard of this..."

Happy that this time Italy was not in tears over a food item he wanted, and seemed instead to be in a very balanced mood, Germany didn't think much on the oddity of putting honey on a pizza, and instead agreed quickly to Feliciano's assurances that it would be delicious, and promised to pick up the honey and be home soon.

Already nearing the store, Ludwig answered Feliciano's " Grazie! Ti amo!" with a quick "Ja, Ich liebe dich auch" while his brother, finally tired of teasing him, yawned and leaned back in the passenger seat.

Ludwig's thoughts returned to the mix of concerns he'd had before the phone call as he drove, found, paid for, and left the shop with the honey, and arrived back home.

Waking his brother, Ludwig exited the car, now Feliciano's reaction the only thing on his mind as he walked up to the door and entered his home, Gil right behind him.

"Amore mio!"

Italy ran across the room from the kitchen and looped his arms around the taller nation's neck, peppering his love with kisses.

"Grazie, grazie!" The petite Italian smiled as he settled back to on his heels, the honey in hand.

"Ah..." Germany began following behind his exuberant lover's steps as Feliciano skipped into the kitchen again. "Feli," The taller man continued, reaching a hand to turn his petite brunette to face him, "There is something I vant to give you."

"Si?" Caramel eyes opened fully and gazed up into blue as the shorter man sat the honey behind him on the counter.

But instead of answering, Ludwig's attention seemed to have been stolen by the pizza behind the waiting Italian and the aromas wafting upwards from it's cheesy, wurst and sauerkraut topping.

The German peered closer at the unusual combination. "Feli...this is...interesting..." Cautiously, he went on, squinting his eyes uncertainly as his gaze returned to his sweetheart's. "I am not sure how I feel about you putting honey on sauerkraut."

Contrary to his words, Ludwig's tone left no question as to how he felt. This was not lost on his overly sensitive lover.

Tears began to gather at the corners of Feliciano's eyes and his brows flew quickly together, both wildly upset and furiously angry that his expert judgement was in question.

Realizing his mistake as soon as the stream of angry Italian began to crescendo in volume, Ludwig was quick to rectify the situation.

It had taken longer than it should have in his opinion, but a few weeks ago Ludwig had finally discovered the best way to end Feliciano's crying, yelling, or occasional threats whether they were threats of violence of even old ominous sounding Italian curses.

The answer hadn't been yelling louder, it hadn't been demanding he stop being unreasonable.

The broad shouldered German steeled himself against any possible sudden moves toward the knife drawer, and taking his petite man around the waist, he lifted Feliciano up and brought their lips together.

Prior protestations dissolved into a happy sigh as, to his larger man's relief, the slender brunette's anger melted away, his lips parting softly to allow the kiss to deepen, their tongues greeting eachother after the day apart. Embraced in his love's muscular arms, Feliciano forgot the ancient curses with which he'd been threatening Ludwig, his beloved, no...he'd never done such a thing...

After finally breaking contact, his feet back on the floor, and a smile on his face, Italy happily returned to putting honey on the pizza, as Germany, victorious to have placated his love, never the less eyed the questionable combination with some trepidation.

Honey on sauerkraut seemed somehow deeply offensive.

The crime being committed upon the well loved food was quickly pushed from his mind however, as Feliciano spoke up, his voice light and cheerful, "Veh~ Ludwig, you said you had a surprise for me?" The Mediterranean man looked over his shoulder with a smile before slicing the pizza, now drizzled in golden honey, and taking a bite, savored it as though it were the best creation of all time; a hitherto undiscovered masterpiece.

"Ah, ja..." As Feliciano set his slice of pizza on a plate on the counter at his back, Ludwig took the Italian's left hand in his own. "Feli," the stoic nation began, bringing the box from his pocket, "If we are to be married, we should have rings, ja?"

The blonde rushed through his words as he slid the gold band onto his love's left ring finger. "Geliebte, because our marriage will cause more concern between our neighbors, we must be quiet for now, though it is between us, and not as our nations..." Feeling the blood rush through his veins, turning even his ears glowing red, Ludwig hurried on, "We should marry here. Now. Our vows are all we need..."

Clear blue eyes looked down intensely and hopefully into those of wide caramel.

Feliciano turned his hand, bringing it to the light, the smile growing across his face. "Veh~ Ludwig, its so pretty~ " He read the engraving on the side aloud, "Meine ewige Liebe"

His eyes began to moisten again, but the smile only grew. "Eterno."

Instantly he had thrown his arms over his taller German's neck, and with the passion his nation was known for, left no question that the vow of eternal love engraved on the ring was reciprocated.

"But wait.." Feliciano suddenly grew serious, looking into sky blue eyes with equal intensity. "Here? Now?" Settling his feet to the floor once again, he spoke more seriously, arms crossing, "Without a priest?"

"Ah, vell," Ludwig began, his face flushing further, "I thought-"

But what he thought was never heard, as another, louder voice joined the conversation.

Apparently Prussia had been listening in the entire time, as he stepped grandly into the room, proclaiming, "Bruder, you cannot expect to propose a marriage without divine blessing! In a simple kitchen no less, with no decorum, no pomp?"

Ludwig sighed as his brother looked saintily heavenward, and laid a hand to his heart, continuing without missing a moment for a even a breathe, the pale man went on, his crimson eyes sparkling, "Vhen you have a brother of the German order of Saint Mary in Jerusalem, a knight of the cross," He looked angelically toward Italy, "a bruder of the _Ordo domus Sanctæ Mariæ Teutonicorum Hierosolymitanorum _at your disposal_."_

"Oh mein Gott, not Latin..." Germany glared at his brother, horrified of the prospect of Gilbert officiating any wedding, let alone his.

This horror was clearly his alone, as Italy squealed in delight and rushed to embrace his soon to be brother in law. "Grazie, Grazie Gilbert!"

"Don't vorry bro, you'll have a Christmas wedding und it vill be awesome I assure you!" Prussia grinned broad and nearly wickedly at his brother from around the ecstatic Italian's hug.

Germany's fist clenched around the box that still held his own ring, as, his mouth a tight line, the blonde reiterated silently the mantra gleaned from one of his many books on parenting, composed of two quotes, _Power is so characteristically calm, that calmness in itself has the aspect of strength_ and _Calm parents hear more_.

Over and over this repeated in the broad man's mind as his brother and fiance began immediately to plan.

* * *

><p><strong>Meanwhile in North America:<strong>

"Alfred..." The president had approached him as delicately as possible. "The nation is already polarized as it is without the uh..." he'd struggled to find the words. "added stress of your um, your..."

"Mood swings?" Alfred had glared. Matthew was accusing him of them too. It was all bullshit and he knew it. He was being 100% rational, all the time, as usual.

"Predicament?" The President had floundered. "Alfred...please just...go on vacation? I know you have a nice little cabin in the Rockies on the border. Why don't you get away for awhile?"

And so he had. He called Matthew and found that the Canadian government was more than happy to give Matt time off as long as he and Alfred were keeping this situation as quiet as possible. The higher ups in both of their government's were bursting with barely contained panic over the new and disturbing development.

Alfred had stocked up on food before setting out on his private flight to the cabin. The Helipad had been his idea. Matthew thought it was stupid and ostentatious but it had come in extremely handy.

To Alfred's eternal delight his national fast food chains were experiences a burst of creativity. Taco Bell was attempting to best the turducken with a bizarre creation consisting a churro inside a gordita inside a taco. Pizza Hut had started putting actual peameal bacon on their Canadian bacon pizza which was all well and good except the addition of twizzlers was throwing most people off and of course Mcdonald's, good old Mcdonald's, had come through for him with the invention of the ultimate breakfast burger. A delicacy to top the Luther, it consisted of a hamburger patty with cheese, a fried egg, and a heaping fuck ton of bacon, sandwiched between two pancakes, battered, deep fried, and injected with maple syrup.

Matthew was disgusted with Alfred's eating habits. Alfred's appetite was already extreme and Matthew wasn't sure how much worse it could possibly get, any illusion he'd had that Al's appetite would stay more or less stagnant had been shattered on Al's last visit when he'd eaten an entire Tim Horton's, completely cleaned it out, much to the displeasure of innocent Canadians trying to have a coffee and a doughnut on their way to work. It had only gotten worse from there.

"Alfred please..." he had begged, his voice somewhere between desperation and contempt. "think of the baby."

"I am." Alfred had insisted. "I'm fueling myself with Awesome."

Alfred was still struggling to adjust himself to the idea that his plan had backfired. Originally, when he'd thought Matthew would be the one experiencing the pregnancy symptoms as part of the spell, he'd been all gung ho to play it up like a 1950s nuclear family. The sudden realization that he would be in the "Wife" position had, Matthew noted, caused an instant abandonment of his desire to fit them into outdated roles. He was now trying to convince Matt that this had been his plan all along and that it was obvious that he, the stronger and more powerful nation, should bear the pain in Matthew's place.

Matt was used to Alfred. He was used to his showboating, his crazy ideas, and the total lack of control he seemed to have over what came out of his mouth and he knew him well enough to know that underneath all that Alfred had a steady core, a good heart, and an active and creative mind. It was those attributes he'd fallen in love with, still, the idea of parenting with Alfred was...terrifying.

Matthew was okay with the idea of being a father. He even liked the idea, but he was afraid that the challenges of raising a little nation (or protectorate, more likely) would bring out the rather profound differences he and Alfred kept simmering underneath their outward appearance of unity.

All he could hope was that they would rise to the challenge and not be divided by their differing opinions.

He had taken the time to pen England a little note politely, of course, letting him know just what he thought of him keeping such arcane things around and where Alfred could get his hands on them no less! Matthew was all for preserving knowledge and historical documents but some things were dangerous and should be carefully kept out of meddlesome hands. He'd been debating whether or not to send the letter which, if he was honest, wasn't all that polite...but his mind had been made up for him when Alfred had excused himself from their morning phone call briefly to vomit.

Matthew honestly wasn't surprised Alfred had gotten them into this position but how could England have let this happen? Why on earth didn't he keep such dangerous magic under lock and key?

For the time being Matthew set the strongly worded letter aside in order to prepare for Alfred's arrival. He had been worried about him. He busied himself making a pot of tea, sweetening it with a bit of maple, and preparing the pancake batter. If his sense of timing was as good as usual, he'd have them ready before Al came barging in the door. As much as they bickered and as much as he teased Al, Matthew knew how much stress Alfred's job put on him. They were all under pressure from their bosses, and though Alfred hid it well, Matthew knew he was feeling the stress, and while he may have brought this latest issue on himself, Matthew didn't want to see him suffer for it. He'd do what little he could to ease him, he did love him after all, even if he did have a knack for getting them both into trouble.

He dropped the first pancake onto the griddle and smiled. Maybe things would work out after all.

Matthew's sense of timing was as excellent as ever. He was just flipping over the last pancake when he heard the tell-tell sounds of Alfred's helicopter landing outside.

He plated their food and put the dishes in the sink before heading out to meet his chipper American sweetheart. Alfred was feeling unusually fatigued, but so far it hadn't put too much of a damper on his usual enthusiasm.

"Mattie!" He called out, waving to the Canadian. He scooped his love up into his arms and twirled him above the ground causing Matthew to protest loudly. "Alfred, please, not in your condition!"

Alfred simply snorted in reply. "Sweetie, please, I got this."

Behind Alfred's back, Matthew rolled his eyes. "So, you're handling this well then?"

"Like a boss." Alfred grinned. In reality, he was actually extremely nervous. In reality, he was panicking and wondering what exactly he'd gotten himself into. His impulsiveness, his spontaneity, and his age-old desire to bind himself as close to his northern neighbor as possible had collided in one moment of passion and folly and he could only hope that it would work out for the best. He'd never really expected to be in this position but he guessed he kind of deserved it...

"Man," He mumbled under his breath "way to be a bitch, Karma."

"What was that?" Matthew asked, not quite catching the American's words.

"Nothing." Alfred swung an arm over Matthew's shoulders. "Is there fo-"

His words were cut short as Matthew swung open the door to the cabin and Alfred could clearly see the kitchen table set up with pancakes, both kinds of bacon, ham, and eggs.

It was late for breakfast, but Matthew knew Al could eat it any time of the day. He had pioneered the 24 hour breakfast menu, as he was quick to remind everyone any chance he got. "Right up there with putting a man on the moon," Al would joke, the 24 hour breakfast menu. "My contribution to humanity."

Matthew's thoughts were cut short by Alfred's lips suddenly crashing into his own, firm, strong hands took hold of his hips and pulled him close. Chest to chest, lips to lips, Alfred invaded him suddenly. "You feed me," the American murmured when he broke their kiss, hands tangling in Matthew's hair. "You know I love that about you? You feed me...and you do it right, nothing fancy that I don't know how to eat like Francis does...nothing horrible like Arthur's...just good old North American cooking and dammit you do it well."

Matthew couldn't help but blush. Alfred was rarely so frank, even though Matthew wasn't surprised his rare moment of seriousness was about food of all things...

"Well, uh, I-I suppose it's true what they say about the way to man's heart then, eh?"

But Alfred had already lost interest in the conversation, he'd pulled away and was rubbing his hands together eagerly as he walked towards the table.

"Yeah, yeah, fuck it, let's eat."

* * *

><p><em>Thanks as always to my sis Abbygreeneyes for her aid with CanAme. :) Thank you all for reading, I hope you enjoyed it! The next chapter will be the wedding and will be up on Christmas! See you all then, my darling readers! Thank you all so much for the wonderful reviews - they keep me going!<em>

_German and Italian used (Though you may know it all already)_

_liebenswert: adorable_

_Mein kleinen Bruder: my little brother_

_schön: pretty_

_Ja, Ich liebe dich auch: yes, I love you too_

_Meine ewige Liebe: my eternal love_

_Grazie! Ti amo!: Thanks! I love you!_

_Amore mio!: my love_

_Ordo domus Sanctæ Mariæ Teutonicorum Hierosolymitanorum (Latin) The order of the house of Germans of the Holy Mary in Jerusalem (Teutonic knights)_

_Side note: Italians like Americans, wear their engagement rings and wedding rings on the left hand, while in Germany, the engagement ring is on the left, but the wedding ring is on the right. :)  
><em>

**_Grazie and danke for reading again, and bitte, porfavore, review~~ I wait breathlessly for your thoughts!_**


	4. Chapter 4: Month 3 and a Wedding

_Sorry the update is so late, the Christmas holidays were MUCH busier than I had anticipated! I do plan to have the next chapter out on the 18th of January as per the normal schedule._

_Enjoy the Christmas Wedding! Oh, and look up Baumkutchen if you've never heard of it before - I hadn't and now I absolutely want it._

* * *

><p><strong>Berlin. December 25th 8:00 in the evening. <strong>

Standing in front of the mirror, the brunette ran a hand along the front of his suit. His smile had been a permanent fixture on his face; this was a day he'd waited for for a long time. Feliciano knew he looked good in the tailored three piece suit the color of the snow on the ground outside. He adjusted his cuffs till the edge of the pale Italian silk shown just barely at the bottom of the suit jacket's sleeves. Breathing deeply, he checked the buttons of his vest and waited for his cue.

It would be a modest wedding; only three people waited outside for him. Besides Germany and Prussia, Italy's southern brother waited as well. He had been surprisingly nonchalant about the whole affair, though, Feliciano recalled as he turned toward the backdoor, Romano's first response had been to threaten his German fiance...

Caramel eyes twinkled in laughter as Feliciano almost giggled remembering how it had all happened.

Shortly after choosing the date, they realized they had had to tell Romano...as the brothers shared the land that made up their nation, there had been no way around it. Instantly upon learning that his little brother was not only going to parent a new country of sorts with 'that-a damn potato eater' but was going to marry him as well, the southern Italian had stood and strode purposefully toward the taller German.

"If you ever hurt him, he will tell me." The scowling man pointed up into the other's chest and poked him hard. "And I know I don't have to remind you that Sicily is in the south, and we have our own reputation I think you know."

Prussia had doubled in laughter behind his serious younger brother as Romano continued, himself serious as death, "It would really be a shame if-a something were to happen...Got it?

Luckily after glaring at eachother for a time, Romano had turned and throwing his hands up in the air, he'd sighed as he said it was about damn time it happen anyway.

From then on it had been more or less easy going. Though as Romano had told Spain almost immediately, it was only a matter of time before the rest of Europe and then the world knew of Italy's marriage to Germany... But he knew they'd simply have to convince everyone it was purely romantic, and not even a bit political.

But he wasn't going to worry about that now; Feliciano pushed any concerns from his mind as music floated toward him from outside. Ludwig was surely worrying about it anyway. Feliciano shrugged, he'd handle it if there was a problem.

Today it was Christmas, and he was getting married.

Feeling light as his breathe, his heart quickening beneath his ribs, Italy opened the door to his German love's back yard. The space was ringed in tall oaks whose bare limbs were draped in fairy lights, the dark green wires twisting around the great kings of the forest. Beside the oaks stood juniper, fir, and pine, the needles of the coniferous evergreens lending a crisp scent to the cool winter air.

"Veh~" Feliciano breathed deep, a sigh escaping his lips as he turned around one of the pines draped in white and green ribbons.

The Mediterranean nation nearly shivered in the cool climate, the steam hanging in the air from his breath. However, somehow he was warm enough, as his feet walked along the path, cleared of snow, he walked toward an iron arch, itself covered in lights as the tall trees around it.

Passing his brother who was, to his credit, doing his best to put up with not only the cold, but the nature of the event, Feliciano's smile grew as he reached Ludwig. Bright blue eyes looked down piercingly into those of golden caramel, open fully, as they so rarely were.

Ludwig knew his face was flushed pink as he took Feliciano's hand in his own, and thanked the cold Christmas evening for the cover it afforded him, as the cool air touched the cheeks of each man present.

Suddenly a tiny chirp sounded above as Gilbird flitted up from Prussia's shoulder to alight atop the archway. Clearing his throat, Ludwig's pale brother brought all eyes to him as he stepped forward with grandeur. An image from a past long gone, the albino stood before them, the vision of a Teutonic knight of old, his bright crimson eyes, standing out clearly against his robes of white and black.

Immediately the Prussian began to speak in his accented latin, sounding as ancient and official as his attire. Paying barely any attention to the words spoken, the broad shouldered German turned back to his beloved Italian. Looking down at his slender man, he was struck by a thought. How had it taken England's meddling magic and America's bumbling hand to get him to propose? Why hadn't he done this ages ago...ages... He knew he'd always wanted Feliciano around, regardless of his sometimes clingy nature, he loved him and should have does this a long time ago...

Regardless of what their bosses would think, this was the right thing to do. The chancellor would simply have to deal with it. Ludwig's thoughts solidified as his heart thundered in his ears, his hand tightening it's hold on Feliciano's.

* * *

><p><strong>North America, the Day Before<strong>

**Cabin in the Northern Rodckie's. December 24th. 3:00 in the morning.**

Across the Atlantic, and a day earlier, Alfred flipped through the channels as Mathew slept beside him. America rolled his eyes as he passed channel after channel looking for entertainment.

"Man, if it isn't fatigue, it's insomnia..." He grumbled under his breath, jealous of his Canadian lover's ability to sleep. He had to admit, it was a bit more than he'd expected..his feet had begun to swell lately, and then there was the nearly constant need to pee..

America groaned in irritability as he swung his legs to the side of the bed and whispering his favorite swear words, Alfred left the remote on the edge of the bed, his restless channel changing paused as he made his way toward the bathroom, for what he figured was the _bazillionth_ time that night.

When he returned to the bed, flopping down on the mattress without a care, and propping his sore feet on pillows at the edge, Alfred reached for the remote only to stop, his fingers an inch away from the well worn buttons.

He'd apparently left it on the travel channel. A montage of rolling hills, picturesque coastline, and ancient monuments, and grand cathedrals flickered across the screen backed with some operatic tune as the narrator's voice went on, _"...one of the single greatest repositories of sensorial pleasures on earth. From art to food, from stunning and varied countryside to flamboyant fashion, Italy has it all."_

Sitting up and taking the remote in his hand, Alfred snorted. _ Italy has it all. _He was America the Beautiful damnit, sea to shining sea and all that. Though before he could change the channel, the American stopped again. He hadn't thought much about Italy...and considering how annoying he was finding his predicament, Feliciano must be going through the same thing.

Suddenly feeling really terrible, a lump rose in his throat. _Damn! _Alfred tossed the remote away; he hated being so emotional lately. How could he do anything about it, what's done is done, and at least his hand had landed in the northern part of the boot shaped nation.

So close to tears, America shifted immediately to laughter. "Ha! Romano!" Imagining just how much chaos he could have caused were it the other Italian brother, America continued to laugh loudly, tears now streaming down his face in mirth at the scenario in his mind.

As he continued to giggle, wiping at his eyes and considering the scenery across the screen as the show ended and moved on to "Great Architecture of the Gothic Era", the Canadian beside the laughing, teary-eyed American stirred.

"Alfred...what the hell, eh? It's not even dawn..." Mathew moved to lean up on one arm, rubbing the sleep from his eyes as he reached for glasses in order to peer closer at his unpredictable lover.

But as suddenly as they had come the tears were gone. Alfred jumped to his knees on the bed and taking the northern nation by the shoulders he beamed widely, "Matt. Matt..we should go to Germany for Christmas."

"What?" Canada stared, wondering momentarily if he was actually awake. Hadn't Alfred just been talking about going to Hawaii yesterday? As usual, complaining about the cold. Deciding it was a good test of whether or not this was a dream, Mathew brought this point up as he moved to a sitting position mirroring the excited American.

Alfred dismissed the question before it was even completely asked, "Yeah, yeah but I've changed my mind." He shrugged and then smiled radiantly. "Besides, I ought to stop in and check with Italy - see how he's doing, you know? I mean, not everyone can handle this sort of thing as heroically as I can." Reaching a hand up to play with his still sleepy Canadian's curl, America continued, "Plus! I mean, you know, Christmas trees, O tannen..um..tannenbaum, and um, Christmas markets, and I won't tell him, but Germany really can make some good sweets.."

Stomach rumbling suddenly, Alfred jumped up from the bed. 'Yeah - c'mon Maaattieee~" His eyes wide, bottom lip pouting, America whined, trusting to his practiced puppy dog look to get his way.

He wasn't disappointed.

"Alright, alrigtht, Al..." Mathew sighed as he stepped up from the bed, stretching.

* * *

><p><strong>Back in Berlin...<strong>

Feliciano's cheeks were as bright as Ludwig's as the German finished repeating the vows his brother prompted in Latin. Unwilling to remove his hand from his love's tightened grip, Italy ignored the cold drops of tears that fell from his lashes as he spoke in turn.

Cool blue eyes warmed as they held onto the caramel gaze, Italy's watery eyes sparkled golden in the lights twinkling from the archway above.

Both nations were lost in eachother's expressions, in the feel of their hands together, warm against the winter air.

As the time came for the exchange of rings, Prussia nudged his taller brother with a crooked grin, and a whispered "West..hey, west-"

Shaken from his immobility, Germany shifted and raised Italy's left hand, taking from his pocket the ring the Italian had immediately put on a month ago in the kitchen, the stoic man commanded his hands silently to be still and not dare shake. Infuriatingly they disobeyed him, betraying his nerves as Ludwig slid the gold circle onto the third finger of his lover's hand. Swallowing the lump in his throat, and with a serious expression beneath the rosy tint across his face, the blonde took a breath of cooling air as he held out both his hands toward the petite brunette.

Beaming in a radiant grin, Italy wiped the tears away from his eyes before removing the simple gold band from his love's left hand to slide it onto the ring finger of the right.

Once each ring had found its home, fingers interlaced again as Germany's older brother made a show of wiping his eyes and grinned, "With all my awesome authority, and under the witness of the Divine and...Romano," Prussia laughed before continueing grandly, "I pronounce you husband and husband, and though I _suggested_ Italy take the most awesome last name," The albino knight rolled his eyes looking at the darker haired Italian now shivering angrily beside his brother. "_someone_ had a problem with that, so, "He turned back toward the newly wedded men still standing silently in front of him. "So I pronounce you as you are! Ludwig Beilschmidt, Feliciano Vargas - Go on kiss eachother and be done with it!"

Unaware he'd been holding his breath until the cloud of steam rose in the air between them, Italy exhaled and moved slightly forward. For a moment nothing happened. Then first it was a twitch at the corners of the German's lips, then a tiny crease at each eye as dimples appeared in flushed cheeks where so very rarely they were seen; the serious nation's expression having split into a wide smile.

Instantly the smaller hands were dropped as muscular arms reached around the slender waist to lift the ecstatic Italian into the air. Bringing their lips together, Germany's mind was, for the moment clear of any worries. No thoughts of how to placate the other nations, their bosses, what it would be like raising a child, where that child would manifest on the already crowded map... these concerns fell away, replaced with only the realization of what he'd just done and the feel of his beloved man's lips on his own.

Outside in the backyard as Gilbert draped an arm around Romano, welcoming his new brother in law to the family, a sudden sound intruded upon the otherwise quiet party.

A few loud knocks followed by unmistakable voices.

"Germany? Italy? Yo, guys - Merry Christmas! You home?" which was immediately followed by a quieter "Al, I told you we should have called ahead. You don't just drop in like this..it's why people think you're rude."

Lowering his new husband and looking toward the backdoor, Ludwig agreed with the voice that was obviously Canada. His smile fading and arms crossing, the German prepared to tell the uninvited American that himself as the voices inside the house got louder, closer.

"No one thinks that, I'm the greatest! Look, they're home - see that's a cake right there, maybe they're outside, there's loads of fun snow to play with! Man, that cake looks good..."

America's boisterous voice grew louder and louder as he approached the backdoor, and then very clearly as he opened it, followed by a hesitant Canada. "Uh-um...Alfred, wait, Alfred hey, wait, that looks like a-"

Both North Americans rounded the large tree as they followed the same path Feliciano had taken earlier. "-a wedding cake." Mathew's words fell almost silently from his lips to be lost in the wind as no one needed them nor had even listened.

Alfred mirrored Ludwig's stance, one set of blue eyes staring wide in surprise through glasses as the other glared in defiance.

"Well, what have we here?" America strode toward the archway. "Some secret, fancy German-Italian commonwealth?" He walked forward accusatorily, not noticing Canada pulling on his arm, trying to salvage the situation. Instead Alfred strode forward still looking to the other blonde, not seeing the furious brunette's expression simmering beside his silently defiant husband.

"Alfred-" Mathew hissed in his ear, "Alfred get ahold of yourself and calm down for a minute, I don't think-" Refusing to be cut off by the American's waved hand, he went on, "You're just being paranoid and moody, settle-"

Now highly affronted, America turned toward Canada, "I'm not being paranoid," He went on turning back toward Italy and Germany as the smaller brunette moved forward opening his mouth to speak, only to be cut off as Alfred continued, "I just don't like the look of secret pacts being made in backyards."

Blue eyes squinting behind Texas, America hadn't expected a reaction from the usually easy going Mediterranean nation. He certainly hadn't expected the gasp that preceded a swift slap to the face.

Amid the shocked exclamations of those gathered, Italy leaped at America and began furiously attacking the startled more powerful nation.

Suddenly the yard ringed by sparkling, beautifully lit trees resounded with yells of "Scheiße!", "Fratello!", "Mein Gott - !" and "Alfred, Mon Dieu, don't hit him back!"

In the end, prying Feliciano from Alfred took the combined efforts of Ludwig and Romano, possibly the first time the two had agreed on anything, as Gilbert's laughter lessened the Prussian's helpfullness. Somewhat annoyed that his strength was forgotten so often, Mathew took the opportunity to remind Alfred as he restrained his trigger happy American sweetheart.

Still spitting mad, tears springing to his eyes, the biting cold weather fully ignored, Italy struggled against those holding him. Even as the broad German tried to command the situation and bring it under order again, his slender Italian wriggled out and ran toward the American. "Just-a because no one wa-wants t-to marry _you_, you, y-you don't have to be such a pezzo di merda!"

And then as quickly as it had flared, the fire was gone. Italy dissolved into tears, turning and rushing toward Germany who wrapped an arm around him as Romano stepped away only to punch his crimson eyed brother in law hard in the shoulder. Prussia simply continued chuckling, looking forward to being able to write about the day's events in his diary.

As Italy's mood shifted rapidly to tears, so too did America's. He'd only come because he felt bad about Italy, the two usually got along really well, and he hadn't intended to ruin some...wedding... Alfred choked up and turned toward Canada as he fought to keep the tears in, determined to only allow his northern twin to see the few salty rebels that fell from his eyes.

Once he had regained control, America turned back toward Italy, his face still stinging slightly where the unpredictable Italian had slapped him. "Italy, I'm sorry...so, so you guys are married?" Suddenly that was the most adorable thing he could think of. What was more, he wanted that adorableness for himself. Rounding on Canada again, Alfred whined. "Mattie - don't you love me? Don't you love me as much as Germany loves Italy?"

"Ah!" Mathew backed up fast, "I-I love you Al, I didn't think marriage was something you wanted..I uh, and and..um.."

America dropped into despair, "You don't love me...No one loves me..."

"Of course I lo-" Canada moved toward his suddenly depressed sweetheart, wondering briefly what Alfred's latest mood swing had done to his nation, determined to sooth the secretly insecure American.

But instead of Canada's arms, it was Italy's that first reached to embrace the sorrowful man pulling at a stray thread from his bomber jacket. "No, no, America, I'm sorry -don't be sad, you're my friend! I didn't mean it! I love you, everyone loves you! Right? Right, Germany?"

"Hm..." At the moment, Alfred wasn't exactly Ludwig's favorite person, having crashed his wedding, but the German took a breath, repeating his calming mantra, and looking pointedly away, he thought of the friendly relations between the two of them, and what they had managed to do working together as he replied, "Ja, ve all like you America."

"Wunderbar!" Prussia had appeared again, reaching one arm around his brother's shoulder, the other around both Italy and the now smiling America, "Ve're all friends again! Bruder, isn't there cake inside that needs to be eaten?"

* * *

><p>After the newly married couple had sliced the first pieces of the traditional baumkuchen, and after sharing the moist layered cake with eachother, an atmosphere of happily sugared peace filled the space and the hearts of all those gathered.<p>

As both Italy and America sat together enjoying their third and fourth slices, chatting amicably, the past thoroughly forgotten, Canada stood and selecting a second helping himself, went off to have a word with Germany.

Thankful to be unnoticed, Mathew slipped past Romano beside the cake, as the Italian brandished the cake server at the advancing Prussian.

"Spain hasn't given _you_ a ring yet, I see~" Crimson eyes gleamed beneath suggestive brows as the pale man ducked the utensil that flew past his head.

"Vaffanculo, you damn-a potato eater!" Romano slid away as the white haired Prussian laughed and pursued him from the kitchen, "But baby- schätzchen, I can learn to love tomatoes!"

It was down the hall and in a room ringed in shelves of books and filing cabinets that Canada found the somewhat taller German. Ludwig stood leaning on a desk beside the single widow, an empty plate held loosely in his hand as he stared out at the twinkling lights of his capitol at Christmas.

Mathew cleared his throat as Ludwig turned toward him. The Canadian shifted his feet, feeling a little awkward at breaking the other nation from his thoughts. "Ah, Germany, I wanted to offer my congratulations" He strode forward until he too was standing beside the desk, "and to, well, apologize for the way America and I, um, arrived. I really would have rather called ahead..."

'That's alright, Canada. I am sure America can be..." Ludwig searched for the right word, setting the plate down behind him. Before he could finish the sentence however, his Canadian guest finished it for him with a laugh, "a handful."

Now facing the other man, Ludwig asked a question that had been gnawing at him for some time. "Mathew, tell me, what strategies do you have? How have you planned to raise a child with Alfred?" Stress had been momentarily forgotten under the heady influence of his wedding and the way his Italian had looked in the snowy white suit beneath the lights, but it now came flooding back into his heart causing palpitations at the uncertainty facing both he and Italy in the months top come.

Ludwig went on in a rush from one question to the next, never allowing the Canadian to answer. "Do you have a contingency plan for adolescent rebellion? How vill you deal vith behaviour? Who vill be the disciplinarian? Obviously I vill have to be...und surely you have thought about this also."

Germany began to pace as yet more concerns surfaced, questions about fatherhood he'd never had to ask of himself, and now that he had, he was terrified to realize he had no idea as to their answers. Turning in his pacing, Ludwig laid a hand to both of Mathew's shoulders. Looking seriously, he voiced his concern, "Canada, I have no idea vhat I'm doing. There is no definitive manual on child rearing, each book has contradictions mit the others, I just-"

looking over his glasses and patting the anxious German on the elbow, the Canadian finished the thought, "-wish someone would tell you what to do? Yeah, I feel the same." Mathew went on seeing the relieved expression that fell across Ludwig's face as the taller man began to pace again. "I mean at first I just didn't believe it, now I...well, I sort of do think it might be fun to be a parent, mind you, I hope Al and I don't argue like..." He thought of his upbringing and the ways both England and France had shaped his and America's lives. "well, you know. But even though I..um, don't necessarily want all the, uh," he felt the blush creeping across his face, "advice Francis give me, it is I suppose, somewhat helpful..."

Ludwig stopped beside the window and turned back toward Mathew as the Canadian finished, "I mean, Italy is less likely to blow up the planet because he ran out of maple syrup injected burgers, but well, maybe it would be helpful to talk to someone who's been in a similar position..." _not that wine, roses, and sweet words solved everything, nor did a silently angry cup of tea _He finished under his breath hopelessly as the German across from his ran a hand through his hair in agitation.

"But I vas raised by mein bruder. You _have_ met Gilbert?" Ludwig moved across to lean against his desk beside Mathew, lips involuntarily twitching upward at the ridiculousness of asking his brother parenting or marriage advice.

A nervous laugh accompanied the same thought as Canada grasped at straws in an attempt to help the man whose problems were so very similar to his own. Mathew could sympathize with Ludwig; whereas he simply hoped for the best and trusted they would figure it out, though he had to admit the idea did cause him the occasional panic attack, he wasn't as reliant on plans, manuals, and handbooks as the man beside him. "Um...how about Austria?"

No sooner were the words out of his mouth than both men burst into laughter, full bodied laughter, at the thought of Roderich's advice which would be no doubt accompanied by furious piano playing and stringent, occasionally hypocritical rules of thriftiness.

Once the laughter had died down, and both men had regained their composure, Canada spoke again, "Well maybe not..but I bet Elizabeta would love to help out, and, uh, to be honest, I don't think I had the best guidance...maybe we can help eachother through this?"

"That is a very good idea." Ludwig nodded, clearly more at ease than when the Canadian had entered the room. "Ja, ve can address each situation as it arises, und it is always helpful to have an outside consultation in such major decisions."

Moments later the two nations were relieving some much built up stress through shared experiences.

"He put what on a pizza?" Mathew laughed heartily before adding, "You should have seen the looks those Timmy's clerks gave Al! That hoser, I won't be able to show my face there for a while!"

Ludwig chuckled, his cheeks bright, and eyes watery, "Ja - Oh Gott sie Dank, Feliciano does not crave fast food!"

The German stood quickly from the desk as the man he'd just been talking about peeked around the door frame.

"Veh, Ludwig..." Italy had clearly not heard the two laughing, but had instead, other intentions. His suit jacket off and held over one shoulder, the Italian stepped just into the room and leaned against the wall. Loosening his tie, Feliciano looked toward his husband as he batted dark lashes over caramel eyes, "It's our wedding night." Moving his fingers toward the top buttons of his silk dress shirt, Italy now looked toward Canada whose cheeks were an even brighter red than the German's beside him.

"Addio, Mathew. I hope you and Alfred made hotel accommodations."

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><p>See you next on the 18th of January~ I hope you liked the lastest installment :D<p>

But now, for your interest, as AbbyGreenEyes loved the idea, 'what if America's hands had landed a bit to the south instead of the north', I give you a glimpse into a terrifying parallel universe:

If it were a different Italian...

"_I svear, I svear I never touched him Feliciano!" Germany ducked the eighth knife to come flying across his kitchen as the irate Italian reached for another. Slender fingers finding the ninth, Italy's eyes glowed with hitherto unseen rage. _

"_Vai all'inferno, figlio di puttana!" (Go to Hell, son of a whore!) the petite nation sobbed as he threw the knife again. "Rompere il mio cuore!" (Break my heart!)_

_As Ludwig ducked behind his overturned kitchen table, the knife that had been aimed for him flew overhead and lodged into the back door._

_Any considerations of following the cutlery and making a break for it out the back faded as fast as they had arrived, as to the German's complete horror the door opened inward and a sight not seen in centuries stomped into his kitchen. _

_Cutlass flashing as he advanced, decked from head to toe as though he had just come into port with an armada behind him, Spain held the sword in one hand, while with the other he deftly loaded his ancient, yet apparently operational, blunderbuss. _

"_Preparado para morir, Alemania?" (Prepared to die, Germany?)_

_Thinking quick, Ludwig rolled away from the table and ran from the sobbing, cursing Italian and the murderous Spaniard; he ran at full speed toward the basement door. Throwing it open he leapt down the stairs, and grabbing his brother by the back of shirt, yanking the Prussian away from his blog and the hilarious news Gilbert was broadcasting to the world. The tall blonde propped a chair against the wall and reaching the ground level window, he forced a way out and after pulling his brother up behind him, even as the pale man entered the news on his phone, texting any and everyone who would read it. _

_Blue eyes wild, Ludwig took the phone from Gilbert and tossed it as far away as he could. _

"_They can trace us on that! Ve have to get as far avay from here as possible! The homeland is compromised!" _

_Pushing his pale brother forward, Ludwig continued darkly as they ran, "But first, ve're going to America, then to England."_

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><p>Oh how different that story would have been. And shorter I think. XD<p>

Well thank you all for reading and for being so patient :) I hope it was a fun read! For those of you who read Its Just Business, I'm now returning to finishing up chapter 19 and will have it updated very soon!

I wait breathlessly for your reviews my darling readers! Bitte? Bitte? Por favore?


	5. Chapter 5: Month 4

My dear patient readers, so many of you have faved and followed this story! I thank you all so much and apologize on the wait for an update! It has been one busy, albeit wonderful summer full of travel and work, though alas not much writing~

So I am happy to give you chapter 5 at last!

Und ein kleine Geschenk für TheGodlessAngelOfDarkness. Ich hoffe, euch es gefällt ^_^

And to Misstress0, Goodness I'm sorry – I said I'd update soon…and that was a long time ago! I hope your story is coming along well :), and that this chapter makes up for the wait on mine!

Chapter 6 incidently will be up very soon, as soon as my sis finishes the CanAme portion!

I want to thank every one of you darling people who have reviewed and/or sent messages, they mean the world to me – however, I assume you may actually want me to update this and I've just looked at the clock, and realized it's 1:30am here and I had better get to posting – so in absence of each of your names and a thank you, may I heartily say I JUST ADORE YOU ALL! Some of you read all my stories and I can't tell you how that makes my heart flip, some of you read one and wait OH SO PATIENTLY for updates and I absolutely feel loved for your patience and sweet reviews each time I see your name.

Danke darlings! ~_~

So without further goings on – chapter 5, month 4!

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><p><strong>Chapter 5, Month 4.<strong>

**January 18th. 6:00 in the evening, Florence, Italy.**

News of the wedding had traveled fast and had indeed caused more than a bit of a stir. However, in the end, America himself had gone out of his way to assure everyone it was a personal union; between the two as men and not as nations. And so time had passed, a month had come and gone and now Ludwig and Feliciano had been called to Italy to look into a most unnatural occurrence.

Walking alongside the Arno river, which wound through the city, Ludwig glanced to his husband, his expression worried. They had originally been scheduled to meet with the scientist they now followed much earlier that morning. However, Feliciano had been so sick he hadn't been able to leave. First it was nausea and then fatigue and no amount of advice on proper diet and rest had done anything but infuriate Italy.

If it had been up to Germany he would have gone alone, but the Italian government was very insistent that the personification of their own nation see this, still unexplained phenomenon.

Apparently no one had thought to call Feliciano's southern brother. Not that Ludwig much relished the idea of spending much alone time with Romano.

The light dusting of snow crunching underfoot, Feliciano leaned into Ludwig and yawned. "Veh...I'm sleepy Ludwig." The smaller man sighed, bringing his left hand to stifle the yawn as his right found it's way into his husband's pocket.

The warm golden lights from the shop windows illuminated the sidewalk and the three who walked along it. Most shops were closed as the afternoon had turned to evening and the street held only the odd shopper and occasional couple; most hurrying toward their destination, happy to be out of the cold.

Ludwig cleared his throat, his arm around Feliciano. "Ah..mi scusi, quanto più lontano?" The German spoke in his love's native language as the Italian botanist ahead of them turned, replying that it was not far.

Noting Feliciano's cold fingers in his coat pocket, Ludwig realized that the Italian had once again left without his gloves. "Feli," The blonde admonished the smaller brunette, "You forgot your gloves again. You'll catch cold. I don't vant you to get sick."

Ignoring the small sigh his Italian love gave as response, Ludwig stopped and removing his own gloves, he gave them to Feliciano. "Good health is important, Feliciano."

"Grazie, il mio amore!" The slight man smiled up at his taller lover and wiggled newly warmed fingers inside soft leather gloves.

His face warming, as he looked down at the other man, Ludwig reached out his arm again and brought Feliciano beneath it. Together they caught up with the scientist who now stood waiting beside a roped off segment of sidewalk cleared of snow.

"You see, gentlemen?" The botanist pointed to a tiny purple flower. "I was told you were each the foremost experts in flora, the president himself insisted I show you. This is, if I am not mistaken, Violettes Galmei-Stiefmütterchen?"

It was. The flower, native further to the north in Germany was rarely, if ever, found south of Ludwig's borders. Yet here it was in Feliciano's territory, and aside from that, growing in the midst of winter, in the midst of Florence, in a crack in the sidewalk.

"Well?" The botanist looked up from where she now knelt beside the flower.

Germany knelt beside her in the snow. "Ja," He carefully reached out a hand to touch the tiny delicate petals. "Your identification is correct. This is Violettes Galmei-Stiefmütterchen, also called Westfälisches Galmeiveilchen." As Feliciano joined the other two on the snow frosted sidewalk, Ludwig looked toward him instead of the botanist still contemplating the mysterious flower.

"It is very rare, even in Germany. Vhat is it doing here, und out of it's season?" Blue eyes peered into caramel brown as Feliciano shrugged. Italy reached a gloved finger toward the deep blue violet petals of the tiny flower. "Veh," he sighed softly, his breath drifting as a fog in the cold air. "I think we'll have an interesting spring Ludwig."

"Ah...ja." Germany again brought Italy close under his arm as they stood. The botanist went on about how they would be carefully removing the plant from the sidewalk the next day in order to preserve it in a lab where it would be safer and free of the danger of being picked or trampled.

Of course only Feliciano took in much of this. Yawning as he listened to one of his brightest botanical minds talk animatedly about this unprecedented discovery, Feliciano leaned in toward his husband as Ludwig's mind whirled through what he could expect from spring.

The cold january night was suddenly uncomfortably warm. Loosening the scarf around his neck, the blonde focused on the unseasonable violet. As he stared at the rare flower, he tried to settle his mind. He had read every highly acclaimed parenting guide; he had gone online to forums for expectant fathers, he had made lists upon lists, and much to Feliciano's frustration, already baby-proofed his home in Berlin, and by the time Spring came each of the places they called home would be prepared as well.

But no matter how he prepared, Germany had never expected fatherhood and with each increasing beat of his heart, he was reminded that he was not ready at all.

At last, the botanist, never realizing it was her own nation with which she had been speaking, bid first Feliciano and then Ludwig a good evening; the German pulled his mind back to the present. He would think more about this later; yes, to write up a good strategy for tackling what he knew less about...he would think of scenarios and come up with various plans. To research more, prepare in more depth, or maybe practice, would do him good.

"Veh...Ludwig, I'm tired."

The botanist had left, her silhouette farther and farther away from them now as Feliciano covered his yawn with a gloved hand. Snuggling in closer under his taller lover's arm the Italian mused about the unexpected violet as the couple made their way back to the car.

"Your violet is so pretty Ludwig," Feliciano's voice was soft and musing as they walked. "It's so sad no one knows how sweet you can be and how pretty your flowers are, and-"

"Danke, Feli." Germany interrupted his Italian's praise as heat wound it's way up his neck and ears.

Undeterred Feliciano went on, "And your language isn't as bad as everyone says; what was the flower's name again?"

_Not as bad as everyone says. _Germany's thoughts went instantly to the image of America and Romano the last time he'd seen them the day after the wedding before both had left Berlin. Alfred's impersonation of Arnold Schwarzenegger had sent the southern Italian into a fit of hilarity, actually falling from his seat in laughter when the American tried the characteristic voice and added in what German he knew - mostly vulgar words of course...

_"Hasta La Vista, Baby!" America's face had glowed under the adoration of his audience. "Wait, wait - hold on!" Alfred had cleared his throat then and grinned, his accent thick, "Scheiße, you Arschloch!" _

_Romano laughed, leaning back in the kitchen chair. "That's perfect! Hahah, you sound just-a like Germany!"_

_"Hahahaha - get this!" Alfred's smile couldn't have been wider as hand to his heart, he looked off in the distance. "Italia, Ich liebe dich so sehr!"_

_Romano guffawed at this impersonation, "Oh Dio mio, it sounds-a like you're a-yelling at him! Hahahha!"_

_Ever the entertainer, Alfred went on, sweet nothings yelled in a commanding tone, "Du bist so schön!"_

_Romano fell laughing from his seat as America went on, now laughing so hard himself he had forgotten all about trying to speak in German, and instead it was just a bad Schwarzenegger amidst giggles, "I LOVE YOU MORE 'ZHAN POTATOES!"_

_"Hahahaha, Dio mio, dio mio, Non posso, non posso!_

_It had been about this time that Ludwig had had enough, lifting his brother in law with one hand and with Canada's assistance with America, he'd seen his guests to the door all the while correcting Alfred's pronunciation and reminding him that it had been Alfred who'd made that body builder an actor and the man had come from Austria at any rate so his accent was Roderich's if anything._

"Germany?" Feliciano's voice brought Ludwig from his reverie. "I'm sorry, veh, I think your language is kinda pretty." Batting long lashes up at his German sweetheart, Italy clearly meant well as he continued, "You can't help that it's a little harsh, I mean, Italy is warmer, sunnier, and so it just makes sense that Italian is a beautiful language of love, I mean Deutsch is pretty, it's really pretty, but most people just hear the scary part and don't know the pretty part, well it is scary Ludwig, you know, you sound really scary when you want, and sometimes when you don't mean too, and some of your words are confusing and long and sound like curses...um, veh, what was I saying?"

"I think you vere saying my language is pretty...und scary."

Feliciano moved to face Ludwig as they neared the car; walking backward he clarified his position, anxious that his beloved know what he meant. "No, no,no, Ludi, it doesn't scare me! Not anymore, I know you, and how loving you really are!"

Italy stopped as the taller nation caught up and brought him under his arm once more. "You'll catch cold Feliciano."

"See, I do know you're sweet Ludwig - now tell me, what do you call that flower?"

"Violette Galmei-Stiefmütterchen is the scientific name, but it is also commonly called zinkveilchen und Westfälisches galmeiveilchen."

"Violette - we call it the same!" Feliciano smiled widely and Ludwig didn't want to tell him it was a loan word, and so of course they called it the same, as he had borrowed it from Feliciano to begin with.

Instead they walked the rest of the way to the car in happy silence, each relishing the other's closeness and body heat, and the happy ability to walk about the city as an anonymous couple.

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><p>Later that night, back in Feliciano's Florence apartment, and happily full after dinner, the couple sat together on the sofa looking out the glass doors which led to a small balcony and to the lights of the city beyond.<p>

Ludwig looked back down as he turned the page of die internationale Handbuch der Vornamen.

Suddenly the book was lifted as Feliciano lay down on his side, head in Ludwig's lap, the Italian sighed happily. "What are you reading, mio amore?"

Balancing the book in one hand, Germany's other found it's way into Feliciano's mahogany hair. Brushing stray strands behind his love's ear, Ludwig responded, already feeling the blush attempt to steal across his face. "The handbook of approved first names. I thought, vell, it has been four months now and we should choose a name for...ah, our son or daughter."

"Aw, so cute! You're right Ludwig!" Feliciano smiled and rolled onto his back on the sofa, the better to look up into the other man's face. "Do you have any favorites?"

Continuing to run his fingers through Italy's hair, Germany looked to the balcony and thought over the names in his mind.

"For a girl," Ludwig continued to think, naming a child was an important decision, whatever the official governmental name, it was the personal name that would be perhaps most special, and which wouldn't change no matter the whims of humans which made up a nation, or province or principality, or whatever would become of he and Feliciano's progeny. Afterall, he had always been Ludwig as long as he could remember no matter his official name as a nation.

"I have alvays liked the name Katja."

Caramel eyes closed as Feliciano yawned again. "Pretty. I like it; and for a boy?"

His fingers absentmindedly finding the familiar curl, Ludwig's heart softened as the idea of a name sunk in, bringing with it an image, a personality; suddenly his mind was less full of strategy, plans, and preparation and he began to imagine actually raising little Katja.

Clearing his throat, Ludwig brought himself back to reality. "I don't know, Feli - vhat do you think for a boy?"

There was no answer.

"Feliciano?"

Only the light sound of slowed breathing met his ears. Setting the handbook on the side of the sofa, Ludwig lifted Feliciano into his arms and stood. Carrying the other man into the bedroom, he spoke aloud though sure Feliciano couldn't hear him and he would only have to repeat everything the next day.

"ok, wird es Katja wenn ein Mädchen, und wenn ein Junge - du wählen."

Laying Feliciano on the bed, and pulling the covers over him, Ludwig leaned over his husband. "Ich liebe dich. Gute Nacht."

* * *

><p><em>Ah..mi scusi, quanto più lontano? – Ah, excuse me, how much longer?<em>

_Scheiße, Arschloch – shit, asshole_

_Ich liebe dich so sehr! – I love you so much!_

_Dio mio – my god!_

_Du bist so schön – You're so pretty/handsome!_

_Dio mio, dio mio, Non posso, non posso – My God, my God, I can't, I can't –"_

"_ok, wird es Katja wenn ein Mädchen, und wenn ein Junge - du wählen." – ok, Katja if a girl, and if a boy, you choose._

_Ich liebe dich. Gute Nacht – I love you. Good night._

* * *

><p><strong>Meanwhile in North America:<strong>

_Italy_ _got a proposal. _Alfred chewed his bottom lip in annoyance. His foot began to tap.

_Italy got a proposal. _Sure, he could propose to Matt...but why should he have to do all the work, all the time? He was the one actually brewing the tiny Canadian-American abomination in his stomach. Or whatever.

HE was the one who got into Arthur's magic and made this all possible. Honestly, why hadn't anyone thanked him yet? Matthew was going to make an excellent father and Ludwig had needed this push to pop the question for years. His little 'mistake' was working out for everyone.

_Italy got a proposal._So when the hell was Matthew going to put a ring on it? He's America the fucking beautiful over here, amber waves of grain and all that, and it is about damn time for Matthew to make an honest country of him.

He sulked all day, hoping Matthew would get the hint. Matt was always telling him that he wasn't subtle enough so...now he was being subtle. If you called stomping around the house and giving his lover glowering looks, and bringing up Italy and Germany's recent wedding subtle. Alfred certainly did. He thought bitterly that England was a terrible father figure, did he even own a shotgun? He certainly wasn't _coming_ _over to put this right_. America always had to do everything on his own, and this would be no different. Well, ha! He didn't need Arthur or a shotgun wedding. He had leverage, and wiles, and all kinds of other tricks up his sleeves.

After a day of Matthew's only response to his pouting being the occasional quirked eyebrow and long suffering looks, Alfred finally snapped.

"I could always become one with Russia, you know." His face was caught somewhere between a pout and a smirk and he folded his arms, trying to look haughty. "He was practically begging all of last century. I bet _he'd _marry me."

Matthew choked a bit on his tea. He knew Alfred had been angling for a proposal all day but he didn't think he'd stoop so low as the play on his jealousy. Which his remark did, though he didn't want to admit it. But of course it did; Alfred is _his _largest trading partner, after all. _His_, not Ivan's.

He knew they'd had some er...passionate moments during the cold war, full of tension and angst and the kind of hollywood drama that Alfred ate up like a crack addict, but none of that could compare to their commitment, their affection, their undefended borders. He refused to let Alfred see him jealous. He composed himself and took another sip of tea. "Don't be ridiculous."

"Could be a profitable alliance." Alfred huffed. "and since _you _haven't asked..."

Matthew knew he shouldn't get jealous. That was the whole reason Alfred was doing this, to play on his possessiveness and need, just like Matthew did when he threatened to start selling all his oil to China.

"Do you have any consideration for what that would do to the world?" Matthew frowned.

"Oh I don't know," Alfred sighed. "but I can't have the child born a bastard, can I?"

That was a low, low blow. A little too low. Matthew set aside his tea. Scowling, he turned and bracketed Alfred with his arms, one on either side of his shoulders, gripping the couch.  
>"Stop it. This isn't funny and it's not cute. That's my baby you're carrying and you're <em>not <em>eloping with Ivan, is that clear?"

Alfred smirked, that evil little _please you know I do whatever I want consequences be damned _smirk, but he didn't mean it. "Why shouldn't I?"

Augh, Matthew just hated him sometimes. He could see the faint blush of arousal on Alfred's cheeks and the daring hint of stubbornness in his eyes. He was goading him, and Matthew knew exactly what Alfred wanted.

He kissed him, hard. Alfred responds eagerly, triumphantly. "Because you're my partner, for better or worse, and you always will be." Matthew nibbled on Alfred's ear, a bit angry with himself for giving in so easily to the jealousy Alfred was trying to provoke. "We're built of the same foundation. We're tied together by the rocky mountains, we pool together in the great lakes, we're bound in so many places. It's the Canadian shield that lies at the heart of Laurentia, of _our _continental craton, the backbone of North America," he nibbled now at Alfred's neck enjoying the sounds he manages to elicit. "And you're going to leave me for Russia?" He scoffs. "You _can't."_

"I can do whatever I want." Alfred purred, gripping Matthew's hair as he suckled on his neck. He wasn't really sure how to come up with a decent rebuttal to _that. _So he went with Beyoncé. Beyoncé is always a good choice, especially when your boyfriend is being ridiculously romantic and making you wonder why you even need a wedding in the first place, but you still want one dammit, so...

"If you liked it then you shoulda put a ring on it."

Matthew groaned, but Alfred could hear the slight rumble of amusement in his voice. "You're killing me, Al."

"So I want to marry you." Al squirmed. "Is that so bad? Mr. We're-partners-for-better-or-worse?"

"I suppose it goes without saying we'd get married in Canada."

"_Hey."_Alfred frowned, the one loaded word meaning 'Let's-not-discuss-the-political-situation-in-my-country-at-this-time,-shall-we?'.

"Sorry." Matthew backed off with a conciliatory nuzzle against Alfred's jaw.

He thought about it for a moment while Al played with his hair. It couldn't hurt, really, if it made Al happy and it was strictly, strictly, _strictly _personal and not political in the slightest. He met Alfred's blue eyes. "Just between us, Al? Okay? No integrating government agencies, no new treaties, just us. Nothing else changes but a couple rings on our fingers and a piece of paper framed and on the wall, okay?"

"You fucking suck at proposals, dude." Al said, though his grin was _beaming _as he fished around in his pocket for his phone. "I gotta text this."

"Hey!" Matthew protested, but to no avail as Alfred mass texted the whole world. Literally.

Alfred grinned and held out the phone for him to see, as though offering confirmation of his undying love in the brief text.

_It's official bitches. Tying the knot with Canada. Super epic kickass wedding time. Fuck yeah._

Matthew just groaned and clutched Alfred's sides, burying his face against his neck, bracing himself for the impending storm.

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><p><em>End of Chapter 5<em>

Thank you for your patience, my dear readers, and I hope it was an entertaining read!

I was originally going to wait to upload chapters 5 and 6 together, but simply couldn't wait. As long as Abbygreeneyes gets the CanAme portion of chapter 6 done by tomorrow it'll be updated then – as well as a fun little segment titled "reactions" composed of various reactions to America's text from around the world. I'll be updating "In the Shadows of the Black Forest" next and then I think I'll call that compilation of fairytales complete with a Snow White and Sleeping Beauty double feature. After this, all my attention will be on "It's Just Business" and "Conflict of Faith" as well as my real life ambitions of finishing my master's degree and starting on my phd in psychology. If only I could promise monthly updates as I had intended, but alas – I cannot. However, I will try to update as frequently as possible and it will most likely be in spurts like this, with hopefully less time in between. Well ok, definitely less time in between because I'd like to see the happy end of this story by my May graduation as I'm fairly sure it'll only be harder to update regularly while working on my doctorate.

But that's all beside the point! I hope you enjoyed the chapter~ In 6, you can expect reactions to America's news, then a hop into the future for Valentines Day!

CANAME portion as always, courtesy of Abbygreeneyes, my sis. Fabulous job fitting my prompt as always, Abby! I hope you enjoy your reward of pancakes.

~~oh, incidently, I have threatened meine kliene schwester that if she doesn't keep writing the CanAme portion, it **will** transform into RusAme...so lol, we'll see how that goes; she loves her North American boys with a streak of jealousy, so I think we can make it 5 more "months" XD

See you again soon dear readers! I await your reviews on the edge of my seat~


	6. Chapter 6: Month 5

_I'm so sorry for the wait! I had intended not to update anything till I updated IJB, but well, that's taking a really long time – so here is Potato Gnocchi – and it's a very rated M chapter._

_Lots of sexy lovin' times._

_~there is a large block of German, but it will be translated in text shortly after, all other translations at the end~_

_Without further ado~_

_It's St. Valentine's Day in Berlin, a month has passed since the first rogue flower was spotted in the northern region of Italy, now experiencing an early spring as well as a boom in unusual plant life. Knowing Germany celebrates the holiday much more than he, Feliciano is hard at work to make him a sweet surprise. He's grown somewhat pudgy as his land has gotten more and more fertile over the past month, this is a cause of insecurity for him._

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><p>"Mmmm" Feliciano murmured as he licked the last bit of icing from the spoon. The little cake he'd made for the holiday was going to be delicious! The sweet dessert was covered in creamy pink icing and the words "Ich Liebe Dich" and "Ti Amo" circled the top in chocolate cream. Cherries made a heart between the bilingual expressions of love.<p>

Italy smiled at his creation, knowing his husband celebrated 's day much more than he did at home. Of course this certainly wasn't the first Valentine's day he'd spent in Berlin since the holiday had become popular with Ludwig, but each year he tried to make something special and different from the years past.

Feliciano's contentment only partially interrupted by an ache in his back, he turned to lean against the kitchen counter and looked out the window. Large snowflakes were falling past the glass, a soft fog of white appeared to just kiss the window's edges with cold.

Feliciano sighed gazing out the window. "Poor Ludwig to have to go to a meeting today of all days when it's so cold out and he should be warm inside with me…" Before the sudden bout of loneliness and sympathy could take hold he was suddenly enthused with determination to make his sweetheart's place as comfy, cozy, and warm as possible before Ludwig returned home.

…But Ludwig wasn't at a meeting, and indeed hadn't had one at all that day. He had taken the time to find the best gifts for Valentine's day, searching so many shops for just the right choices. Smiling a mischievous grin more commonly viewed on his brother's face, the tall blonde juggled the bags on his arm as he paid for a bouquet of bright red roses.

Thinking of sunnier days to come, as well as how much he wanted to get home to Feliciano, Ludwig walked quickly through the snow that had begun to fall.

Once behind the wheel, Germany thought back to a day when his emotions had been worn more on his sleeve. His youth had been turbulent and fraught with wars, but he had had such creativity, though always he had been unable to express himself as well as he wanted, no matter how well his citizens could. Ludwig conjured up a poem from his past, written by one of his most renowned poets. It was the only thing he could think of which seemed to be enough to express his feelings for his Italian love. He certainly needed the help, Ludwig knew if he tried to spill out his heart without planning it would never come out quite as he wanted it…no matter how he tried, how could he find words good enough for his Feliciano?

Ludwig spoke the verse again and again under his breath, a rosy blush crossing his face and warming his ears.

"Euch bedaur' ich, unglücksel'ge Sterne, Die ihr schön seid und so herrlich scheinet, Dem bedrängten Schiffer gerne leuchtet, Unbelohnt von Göttern und von Menschen: Denn ihr liebt nicht, kanntet nie die Liebe! Unaufhaltsam führen ew'ge Stunden Eure Reihen durch den weiten Himmel. Welche Reise habt ihr schon vollendet, Seit ich, weilend in dem Arm der Liebsten, Euer und der Mitternacht vergessen..."

Turning onto his street, Ludwig continued his repetition, sure not to forget a word, determined to show Feliciano just how romantic he could be.

As Ludwig drove, Feliciano looked around the room at his handiwork. The cake sat perfectly on the coffee table beside a chilled bottle of wine, He had fluffed and arranged all the pillows in the livingroom, and a fire blazed in the hearth casting its warmth throughout the home.

"Veh.." Feliciano sighed as he walked to the window sill and leaning on it, again gazed out at the falling snow. Building that fire had been hard work; his back hurt, his feet hurt, and he swore he was getting fatter by the day! Lips turning down slightly, Italy was suddenly concerned about his appearance; Ludwig was probably just trying to be nice when he told him he looked good and the weight wasn't so bad...

This thought raced and circled through his head, but it wasn't alone. Feliciano also thought of the snow, and how he loved snowflakes as a child. In four months they'd have a child of their own. Mood switching rapidly from insecurity to anxious happiness, Feliciano wondered what a child of theirs would be like, what their child would enjoy, would look like, his or her temperament…He had thought about this a lot and each time it crossed his mind, his heart, otherwise full of happy wonder was pained in momentary melancholy. His emotions swung downward again.

Always he recalled himself and Ludwig as children, and every time he felt the same sinking sadness that his beloved had so few memories of his childhood so many centuries ago, while Feliciano remembered it all…

An unmistakable spring in his step, Ludwig parked, and hurried toward his door. Adjusting the bags in his arms, full of sweets decorated with very happy and suggestive pigs, and various gifts for the man he loved, on this most romantic of holidays, he reached for the doorknob.

Turning the knob as he opened the door, hoping to surprise Feliciano, Ludwig instead found himself the one surprised and rushed in, dropping the bags on the floor as he hurried to Feliciano who was standing, sobbing, at the window.

"Feliciano, vhat is it?" Ludwig held his husband by the shoulders and worried, stared into his eyes as if he could discern what had caused him to cry so.

Catching his breath, the tears refusing to stop rolling down his face, Italy gasped around the sobs, "I-I'm-a-s-so sorry; It's nothing." Italy grinned through his tears and wiped his eyes with the back of his hand.

Germany was unswayed. Something had upset his Italy and he had to know what it was. "It vas not 'nothing'. Tell me vhat made you cry!" The blonde's grip on the brunette's shoulders increased as Ludwig's heart sped. Irrational though it may seem, he was filled with the urge to rid Italy of whatever had made him sad, whatever it was, he'd attack it full force until the man in his arms was happy and carefree again.

Feliciano chuckled at his over protective sweetheart. "Oh Germany, it was nothing, just some memories, that's all." He pouted then, and moved in as his taller man's arms enveloped him. Looking up through his lashes, Feliciano added in an effort to move past the subject, "and…I've gotten so fat…"

Ludwig held Feliciano close, blue eyes peering into caramel brown. Unsure of what had triggered Italy's tears, Germany decided he wouldn't ask. There was more than enough in the long span of time to cause a moment of sorrow upon remembering. He was no stranger to tears himself, regardless of what others may think.

Instead, Ludwig took the diversion Feliciano offered, and though a diversion it was, it was nonetheless true. Feliciano may have been changing the subject but as he stood, pressed against Ludwig's muscular chest by his muscular arms, he was searching for assurances that Ludwig still found him attractive.

Blush returning, the German cleared his throat and recalling his earlier determination to be as romantic as possible, to sweep Feliciano off his feet with unexpected emotion, Ludwig took his sensitive Italian man by the chin, and tilted it up as he moved in with a kiss.

His heart racing, the blood thundering in his ears, Ludwig kissed away the remnants of salty tears before his lips captured Feliciano's in a kiss into which he tried to express all that was in his heart, before he tried to say it in words.

Hands moved along eachother's backs, Feliciano holding tight to his broad man's waist, while Ludwig's hands slid from Feliciano's shoulders, taking their time at the small of his back, pulling him in closer as their lips stayed locked together.

Finally breaking for air, Ludwig dropped his head to Feliciano's shoulder to speak into his ear. "Du bist so schön" He could feel his ears getting redder, but went on, now in Feliciano's language, "Sei Bellisimo"

This was it. Ludwig steeled his nerves, it was time to be charming. His husband's face was now glowing, Italy's grin spurring him on, Ludwig quickly moved to gather up the bags he'd dropped and the bouquet of roses.

"I made you a cake." Feliciano pointed to the coffee table happily as Ludwig turned toward him, arms laden with gifts.

Ludwig stopped suddenly, seeing the cake and the roaring fire for the first time. "Danke Feliciano," He drew closer, speaking seriously, "I can't wait to taste it."

"I..uh, got you these," Germany began, inwardly commanding his voice to both be softer and not waver under his nerves. Maybe he'd gone overboard. Had he gotten Italy too many gifts?

…Perhaps it wasn't too many, but how he had just shoved them into Feliciano's arms…

"Ah, sorry Feli…" Ludwig realized he had filled the other man's arms with boxes of chocolates and cookies and hurried to help Feliciano put them on the table beside the cake. Italy laid a hand on his worried man's arm, "It's ok! I feel so loved!" He was happy to see Germany's expression relax a bit.

Now feeling much better, his earlier memories and sadness fading, Feliciano continued smiling and laughed inwardly at his sweetheart's awkward movements to guide them to sit on the sofa. Still holding the roses, Germany turned to face him; Italy could see he was thinking of something, readying himself.

Bright blue eyes closed for a moment as the blush faded to a lighter pink across Ludwig's face. Clearing his throat, the German opened his eyes, ready and prepared. The poem in his mind, the practiced look of confidence, the perfected romantic gaze, it was all simply a formula to be followed, and Ludwig had practiced it with his usual detail-oriented approach.

Leaning forward as he finally gave Feliciano the dozen roses, Ludwig let all his emotion fill the words written by one of his citizens so long ago. Thankful he didn't have to think of the right words to say, and instead allowed his voice to be the tool of his expression.

"Stars," He began, casting his eyes upward as if to look at the stars, and in order to keep his voice steady. "you are unfortunate, I pity you, beautiful as you are, shining in your glory, who guide seafaring men through stress and peril and have no recompense from gods or mortals, love you do not, nor do you know what love is."

He looked toward Feliciano again, sky blue gaze locking onto caramel. His heart in his throat, Ludwig continued, leaning closer to Feliciano. "Hours that are eons urgently conducting, your figures in a dance through the vast heaven, what journey have you ended in this moment?"

Raising his hand up to brush through Feliciano's hair, fingers finding the beloved curl, Ludwig was gratified to see his words having the hoped for effect. Now he had to finish it off.

Wrapping his husband's sensitive hair around his finger, Ludwig concluded the poem addressing the stars but intended for Feliciano, "Since lingering in the arms of my beloved, all memory of you and midnight I've lost."

Taken aback, Feliciano couldn't tear his eyes from Ludwig's. Instead, leaning into the hand moving down from his hair to cup his face, Feliciano sighed, "Veh… Ludwig, sometimes I forget about your epoca del romanticismo."

Breaking from Ludwig's gaze, Feliciano looked to the painting above the hearth. Smile growing quickly from ear to ear, Italy had taken it for granted, as it had hung there so long. Friedrich Overbeck's 'Italia and Germania' painted in 1811.

Leaning in close, Feliciano was aware that his charm was coming across with natural finesse, and he used it to push Ludwig's romantic mood over the edge.

As he gave Germany his best 'bedroom eyes', a breathless whisper escaped Italy's lips. "Let's go to…" He leaned ever closer, "das Bett…."

In one movement, Ludwig had lifted Feliciano from the sofa and was already striding through the living room. "Si, signore!" The broad shouldered blonde kicked the bedroom door open with his foot, a wide, carefree grin across his face.

Italy giggled; to hell with anyone who thought his man was serious all the time! Though Germany may need a lot of help letting loose, and when he did, he managed to do some more than strange things…like wearing socks on the beach when they stayed at his place…

Feliciano laughed fully at the thought as Ludwig lowered him gently onto the mattress.

"Vhat?" Leaning over him, blue eyes, previously bright with passion now looked confused and hurt.

Hurrying to put things right, as Feliciano knew well it was when his German love was in a romantic mood that he was at his most sensitive, whether he would admit it or not. "No, nothing, I'm just happy!"

Ludwig appeared to be slightly skeptical.

Throwing his arms up and around the blonde's neck, the brunette craned his neck back and sighed dramatically before looking back up. "Weren't you going to kiss me?"

Not another word needed said.

Hands moved fast across chests to remove shirts, reached down to unbutton pants. Clothes were tossed across the room all in such a speed that the necessary seconds when their lips were not locked together was unbearable.

Feliciano felt Ludwig's heart beat against his chest as they resumed their previous position, its rhythm matched his own as their hips came into contact while their lips refused to part again.

The blood pumped through his body as Feliciano felt his love's growing erection against his own. Italy shifted his hips to move against the taller man's and was rewarded with a low moan captured in their kiss.

At last, pulling his lips away from Ludwig's with hesitance, Feliciano simply moved his kisses to his husband's neck as he scooted down just slightly, leaving one arm up and draped around Ludwig's left shoulder while he lowered the other to drift down his love's fit abdomen to grip the other man's cock with gentle eagerness.

As Feliciano stroked his lover into full hardness, he felt Ludwig's large hand grip his hip tightly. Italy saw any time he got the northern nation to let loose his passion as a victory, particularly as it meant lots of possessive grasps, loving caresses, and that his partner's attention to detail wasn't just for the office.

But sudden gripping insecurity once again took hold and as he kissed along beloved pectorals, Feliciano dropped his left arm from Ludwig's shoulder to grab the nearby blanket. Pulling it across himself, he hoped to disguise the weight gain that caused him such worry.

His actions did not go unnoticed as Italy had hoped, instead, Ludwig stopped and sat up.

"Vhat are you doing, Feli?" Breathless with desire, Germany nevertheless analyzed the situation and answered his own question while Italy squirmed below him, evading the question. "You think you're fat, again. Is that it?" Tone commanding an answer, the blonde leaned down again, resting both palms on either side of his beloved's head.

"Well….veh, I've gained so much weight…" Caramel eyes began to fill with tears again. Trying to hold them back, Feliciano hated his added emotional unpredictability and tried hard to contain it, which in itself felt unnatural as well. "…this stupida gravidanza…"

"Oh, Feliciano!" Ludwig sat up only to carefully remove the blanket and pull the smaller man in close. "You're not fat!" Large hands stroked the slender back. "That you have gained weight is good, it is a sign of health und a good sign for our baby." He continued, listing various points of information, which though found in books created for mortals, was, however, true.

Finishing his lecture, albeit a loving lecture, the Federal Republic of Germany held the Italian Republic by the shoulders and met him with a piercing gaze. "Right now from the Alps to the end of the Northern Apennines there are flowers blooming, flowers that have never bloomed beyond my borders." Feliciano, the lower Po valley is more fertile than ever before, even the upper is astounding agricultural scientists!" Feeling his brow draw together, Ludwig went on, "You know all this – ve have had countless meetings!" When Feliciano opened his mouth to interrupt, Ludwig put a finger to his lips. "The Adriatic, Ligurian, Mediterranean, and as seas are fluid, even the Ionian to the south is more full of life than at any time in history!"

Feliciano laughed lightly, "I don't know how Romano feels about that; I don't know if he knows how he feels about it actually!"

Voice softening, Ludwig went on, "By nothing but chance, these symptoms are happening to you und not to me…"

The Italian laughed again, now back at ease, imagining how his German love would've handled the situation. If the other man was over-protective and neurotic now…

Smiling again, Feliciano nuzzled in close to Ludwig's chest before flopping back to the bed. "Grazie mio adorato!" He sighed, this time a happier exhale, "I feel much better." Aware of his heartbeat increasing again, his blood rushing down his body as he gazed up above at his beloved, the lithe Italian stretched. His voice the definition of suave, Italy brushed his foot along Germany's thigh as the larger man remained sitting on his knees. "If you still find me handsome…"

By now growing more accustomed to his partner's fluctuating moods, it took only a moment and a second graceful swipe of Feliciano's foot to stir Ludwig into action.

Moving forward to lean above Feliciano again, Ludwig gazed down at his Italian love as he retrieved lubrication from the bedside table. Feliciano was radiant. It was like all the books and magazines said; he 'glowed'. Ludwig's heartbeat steadily pumping blood through his body, sending a blush to his cheeks and fueling his need. The blonde ran a hand through the brunette's hair, immediately finding the familiar curl.

"Let me show you how irresistible you are Feliciano."

A happy moan passed Italy's parted lips as he arched upward toward Ludwig; the strong German reached his other arm around Feliciano's back to pull them together. The setting sun just broke the bottom of the windowsill, bathing them in the soft blue light of dusk as Ludwig lowered his lips to meet Feli's in a deep kiss.

Feeling Ludwig tug and twirl his curl, Feliciano began to breathe heavily and bucked up toward the man above him again before wrapping both legs around his partner's strong waist.

The German's breathing was as heavy as the Italian's; Ludwig's blue eyes were wide as he looked down at Feliciano. He still couldn't believe his luck. In a way he was thankful to Arthur…whose irresponsibility with the security of his ancient magic, which Ludwig still wasn't entirely happy about him having, had however given him more happiness than he could have imagined. America's clumsy drunken romp in Arthur's room of magic artifacts had pushed him to finally take his relationship with Italy where he should have ages ago.

By Summer he and Italy would be raising a child…a thought which still astounded him, caused some sensitive tensions with the rest of Europe and filled him with worry, but most of all filled him with an indescribably lightness.

The blonde released the brunette's curl and brushed his hand down Feliciano's cheek to cup the smaller man's face. He still held Feli close, Ludwig's other arm fully encircling his Italian's slender back. "You are my everything, mein Liebe, and you are exceptionally handsome." His heart was pounding, and the way Feliciano had wrapped his legs around his waist was sending a heat spreading throughout his body that Germany was finding increasingly difficult to ignore.

Ludwig sat back on his knees, kissing along his beloved man's inner thighs as he moved Feliciano's legs.

"Veh~" Ludwig heard his love sigh again, and the sound sent a thrill through his blood. He slid one hand along Feliciano's thigh to encircle his rapidly returning erection. Germany's heart raced at the sudden gasp from the Italian's lips as he tightened his grip and began to stroke his large hand up and down the shaft bringing Feliciano to arch his back against the sheets light moans and nearly indiscernible whispered Italian.

With great care and intention, the German lowered his lips onto his beloved Italian's straining cock, tasting the slight bead of precum that glistened at the tip.

He explored the shaft with strong movements of his tongue and rejoiced at the sighs, gasps and soft moans coming from his love as Feliciano arched his back again in Ludwig's grasp and ran his fingers through Ludwig's hair.

When finally Germany took his husband's dimensions completely into his mouth, the warmth and feeling were nearly too much for Italy, emotionally exhausted from his cycling moods, but there was no reason for him to stifle himself so he rode the wave of pleasure now flooding him with both desire and devotion. Hands that had been playfully running through blonde locks now flew to the side to grip fistfuls of cotton sheets as Feliciano cried out to his love in every way he knew how.

As Ludwig gripped his man by the hip and moved his hand in time with his tongue, Feliciano's heart pounded furiously.

When his strong man let loose a moan from his throat, the vibrations thrilling along the sensitive flesh in his mouth, Feliciano thought he might die from the pleasure.

Sensing his love's rhythm, Ludwig released Feliciano's hip as he groped for the lube he'd laid on the bed beside them. Without taking his attention from his task, Germany slicked the fingers of his unoccupied hand.

Ample lubrication on his fingertips, Ludwig circled Feliciano's entrance as he continued to move his other hand in time with his mouth. Slowly, gently, he slid first one and then two fingers inside.

With utmost attention and discipline, Germany worked on both fronts, intent on Feliciano achieving climax as well as preparation for more.

When finally feeling his blood rush, leaving him lightheaded in ecstasy, Feliciano cried out again, all previous insecurity forgotten, "Ti prego, ti prego, non ti fermare!" before he released his hold on the sheets and gripped the headboard behind him, fingers digging into the edge of the wood.

Ludwig, always determined to do whatever he did better with each time he did it, gave his love everything he could, Feliciano's pleasure his only priority.

In a wave of sensation, Italy arched his back again, and calling his German's name, he came in a rush that left him spent and drowsy with contentment as his husband swallowed around him.

His moans light and slow, Feliciano continued to move his hips downward on Ludwig's fingers which pressed into him; mahogany hair dripped in sweat and spread out against the pillow as he slid down from it.

The German looked down at his Italian undulating at his touch, the dying light of the sun replaced by the rising moon's rays now streaming onto the bed; Feliciano's radiance filling his mind. Ludwig continued to take deep calming breathes as his straining erection pulsed in need.

Feliciano's expressive sighs and rhythmic movements were enough to undo the anguished man above him. It was all Ludwig could do to ignore his painful desire and calm his racing heart.

He would take his time, Germany was determined to take all the time he needed. Dropping light kisses to his beloved's stomach, thighs and everywhere between, he kept up his steady movements.

When Feliciano's moans got louder once more and again the Italian's cock began to grow erect, the taller man looked up from his kisses and breathed deeply inhaling the other man's scent as his own erection weeped against the sheets. "Are you…ready, Feli?"

The brunette was moving his hips in rhythm with the motions of his love's fingers as they moved in and out carefully. Feliciano gasped in pleasure as Ludwig's practiced fingers hit just the right spot to make his legs quiver. "S-Si!"

Slowly, Ludwig stretched his fingers inside his love one last time before pulling them out and coating his painfully hard cock in lube. Taking another deep breath, He looked down at Feliciano, held onto the Italian's lifted thigh with one hand as his husband scooted closer, the other reaching up to toy with the sweat drenched curl.

Feliciano felt Ludwig's hard cock against his entrance. He opened his eyes wide to look into his love's face. The blonde was biting his bottom lip, his brows knit together in an expression of desires held in for far too long.

"Veh~" Feliciano sighed, his eyes beginning to close; he ran a hand along Ludwig's forearm up his bicep to just graze fingertips along the taller man's jaw line before dropping his hand to encircle his own erection. "Ti amo."

At his love's soft words, Ludwig breathed a deep sigh and took Feliciano's curl tightly around his finger and with a low growl escaping his parted lips, Ludwig slowly entered his supple Italian. No matter how intimate, no matter how many times they had made love, whether it was he who pressed into Feliciano or the other way around, each time that first step was taken, it took his breath away.

As he moved his hips to draw back and plunge forward, Feliciano's whimpers, moans, and sighs propelled Ludwig on. Feliciano gasped with each moment that his love plunged in and hit the spot that left him, like Ludwig, breathless. Finally, as the need became too much and his legs could spread no further, the petite Italian flung his head back on to his pillows, arching toward his love, Feliciano lifted his legs to rest each on one of Ludwig's broad shoulders as the German let go of his hair, taking both hips in hand to guide the smaller man.

As Feliciano cried out in abandon at the sensation building him toward his second climax of the night he linked his toes together behind his partner's neck, Ludwig gasped as he penetrated deeper.

Leaning forward, Germany tightened his grip on Italy's hips and increased his speed. Beads of sweat dripped from messy blonde hair as the flush in his cheeks mirrored the one crossing Feliciano's face, as the Italian again reached behind for the headboard, his hand working fast to match the speed his German love had set.

Ludwig could control himself no longer, Feliciano's cries and hypnotic movements were too much. Caramel eyes were closed tight as Italy's back arched, chest rising as shoulders pressed backwards into the mattress, hips forward onto Germany's thick cock deep inside him. Ludwig's gaze was fixed onto the vision of perfection below him as he pulled back and plunged in again; pressing the smaller man into the mattress with a sound somewhere between a groan and a sigh infused with pleasure.

Feliciano's eyes flew open as his strong husband drove into him again and again; it was all he could do to stroke himself in time with Ludwig's rhythm as he neared the breaking point again. Meeting Germany's appreciating gaze, Italy fought to keep his eyes open as waves of sensation crested over him.

Feliciano's attempt to keep his eyes open, in reality had the effect of thick black lashes wavering to close over warm caramel eyes only to struggle to open again. The heavy lidded effect only added to his attractiveness as it displayed his satisfaction. Able to take no more, Lugwig finally broke their gaze to crane his neck back, managing to moan what Feliciano assumed were partial words in his native tongue.

Hearing his composed man lose himself to deep moans and half formed German words always undid him.

With each of Ludwig's strong thrusts, the petite Italian was filled, his nerves tingling making his legs shake as Feliciano recognized he was nearing completion as Ludwig's sapphire blue eyes found his own again

Eyes now wide, bottom lip trembling, Feliciano brought his hand from the headboard and drove his fingers into Ludwig's blonde locks pulling the other man to lean ever closer over him. "Veh~ Ludwig, oh, oh!" He came warm and fast between them, allowing his eyes to close at last in gratification.

Seeing Feliciano's warm caramel eyes watery as they closed, Ludwig lost it entirely. He let go of his grip on his love's legs, now taking resting each hand beside Feliciano's shoulders and dropping his forehead against Feliciano's chest, Ludwig cried out as he came deep and fully, "Oh Gott…Mein Feliciano, I-ich liebe Dich!"

They collapsed together side by side as each man caught his breath, fingers intertwined between them, Feliciano turned and breathed a light "Ti amo, Ludwig." Closing his eyes, all worry for the future, or sadness of the past thoroughly forgotten, his only thought was of sitting beside the fire later, sharing the cake he'd made and the sweets Ludwig had bought. "Eine gute Valentinestag?"

Feliciano knew the answer by the relaxed brow and happy, tired smile which graced his man's face before Ludwig could answer.

All the same, Italy fell into a contented sleep when he heard the words.

"The best."

* * *

><p>Thought the sun had set in Europe, it was still weakly lighting the North American continent across the Atlantic.<p>

* * *

><p>Alfred would've missed Matthew more, in the month they'd been apart, if he wasn't enthralled with his own lavish wedding plans. The stacks and stacks of wedding magazines and the constant phone calls from tailors, florists, and musicians practically begging for his business (wedding of the century, baby!) were almost enough to distract him from his growing problem.<p>

His literal growing problem. He was getting fat. All his agricultural areas were reporting an early spring and projecting a very good year. He could literally feel the midwest bursting with its bounty.

He blamed Kansas for the failure of his jeans to zip all the way up. Kansas, or Canada, or England's stupid magic.

Speaking of England, Caterpillar-Face was hanging around a lot lately. Lecturing him about how to be a gentleman and respect Canada's delicate sensibilities. America snorted. Delicate sensibilities his ass. Which was, again, Alfred mused, quite literal...his ass was a perfect example of Canada's very not-delicate sensibilities. Rather his rough, passionate, hot, sweaty, nasty sensibilities...aaaw yeah.

"America!" England snapped. "Are you even paying attention? I'm trying to explain to you the finer details of maintaining a healthy relationship. As countries we lead very stressful lives and if you're going to keep the proverbial spark in your relationship with Canada you're going to need to-"

America laughed. "Start a hundred years war? Bicker constantly and have drunken hate sex? Isn't that what you do with France?"

England sputtered, indignant. "How dare you imply that I would have carnal knowledge of that...that...bloody Frenchman!"

"Dude." America waved one sassy, dismissive hand. "Everybody knows you have carnal knowledge of like half the world. You're totally a...what's that word you use?" He grinned and put on an exaggerated English accent. "A tart. A trollop. A slag. A bleedin' strumpet."

England had gone completely red in the face. "Well, I never! That's the last time I give you romantic advice you...you vulgar...you bloody git! You don't know what you're talking about! This is all the fault of those damn puritans."

"You don't know what you're talking about. I don't need romantic advice from you. I've already arranged for a helicopter delivery of a veritable fucking epic storm of roses to be dropped on Mattie's cabin. Don't tell me how to do romance, man! I have Hallmark and Chick Flicks for that."

England just stared, incredulous, at the self-satisfied smirk on America's face as the other nation kept on.

"Anyway, I got a plane to catch bro. I'm supposed to be making my grand entrance shortly after the delivery. You can crash here if you want but don't even think of cooking shit. This is like, one of my favorite apartments. Don't fuck it up."

A short time later, in a nation to the north...

France had arrived with a tailored suit for Canada and a bottle of his best wine, intending to help the young fiancés celebrate valentine's day when the sound of a helicopter drowned out the greetings he was exchanging with Matthew.

Spotlights lit the night from above.

Suddenly they were both enveloped in a cloud of roses. "So romantic!" France cried over the sound of the helicopter. "I don't give America enough credit!"

Canada sighed. He might secretly find America's overblown demonstrations of affection charming, in a goofy way, but he wasn't going to admit it to France.

* * *

><p>I hope it was as enjoyable to read as it was to write!<p>

Du bist so schön – you're so handsome/pretty

Sei Bellisimo – same in Italian

epoca del romanticism – the German romantic era

stupida gravidanza – stupid pregnancy

Ti prego, ti prego, non ti fermare! – I beg you, I beg you, don't stop!

* * *

><p>Sorry if I missed anything, I'm very, very sleepy!<p>

Thanks to Abbygreeneyes for the CanAme portion as always, and a big thank you to SoledaDeMisPesares for the help with Italian!

And thank you ALL for being so patient!


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